


Cleaning House

by Kouji757



Series: The Gentlemen [3]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-04-25 02:27:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4943170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kouji757/pseuds/Kouji757
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It can be a pretty big problem when there's a threat within your own household.  It can be an even bigger problem when it invites more trouble in.  The worst problem, however, is trying to figure out how to contain it when it seems impossible to stop it.</p>
<p>AU series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mail Call

They had apparently closed the air vents to her office while she was out and the room was one step below stifling when she opened the door; frowning heavily and already hot from walking over from the parking garage across the street in the Nevada sun Shiloh used a foot to nudge the door open further and maneuvered her way into the room, banging her heel into the door to shut it behind her.

She had a metal lockbox in her arms, two foot by one foot by one foot - not very large but the metal made it heavy - and she let it drop to her desk with a rattling thump before she moved to the far corner to open up the vent to let the cooler air blow in.

Only moments later, before she'd even had a chance to sit down, the office door opened and Yuri's head poked inside.

"I just got in, what do you want now?"

His expression was as serious as ever and Shiloh still had no idea how to really read the man but she had the feeling she'd come across as a bit more grumpy than she'd intended as evidenced by the tiniest hint of his brow furrowing.

"Yes, am aware. Mr. Alexei wishes dinner tonight with you."

"Oh, uh...thanks. Sorry, didn't mean to sound - yeah, let him know I'll be up once I look through the mail."

He nodded and left and Shiloh sighed heavily and dropped into her desk chair, rubbing her face with her hands. It had been a long drive; normally she didn't mind eating dinner with Alexei (that man had an amazing number of stories to tell) but as hot and tired as she was she found the idea more annoying than anything at the moment...she'd been hoping to do her sorting then just head to bed.

After a few moments (during which Shiloh slid her chair over to sit nearer the AC vent until she'd cooled down) she dug a key out of her pocket and opened the metal box, reaching in to pull out a small pile of envelopes and a single small package wrapped in brown paper with Mundy's carefully printed handwriting visible on its top.

That made her smile a bit and wonder what he was sending home to his folks as she sat the box aside to start her "international" pile; the box ended up being the only thing needing to be sent out of the country with the other bits of mail all going to various parts of the United States - Scout was sending a letter home to his mother, Spy was also sending a letter to Scout's mother (Shiloh had decided weeks ago not to ask about that the first time she'd seen it), there were several thick envelopes from Medic addressed to various scientific research and supply facilities, and Dell-

Shiloh paused, halfway to dropping the envelope with Dell's neat script on it onto the pile, and held it closer when her tired brain noticed that it actually didn't have an address on it; it wasn't the first letter of Dell's that she'd handled so she recognized the handwriting but whereas those other letters had been addressed to his parents down in Bee Cave, Texas, this one was...

...addressed to her, specifically. Her name was on the envelope and was the only writing on the envelope entirely. Huh.

She turned it over in her hands and then slid a finger under the flap to carefully tear the envelope open and pull the single sheet of paper out.

_Shiloh,_

_Just a quick note to let you know that I've got my hand as fully functional as I can hope to get it - Medic and I can't figure a way to let me feel texture with it without digging around in my arm and my brain so I'll just have to make do with what I've got and be glad the dang thing works well enough as a replacement._

_I've got Victor up and running, still working on building the outer plating for his body but he's mobile and also was surprised you thanked him for what he did. He might be programmed to be as human as possible but I guess it never occurred to him that he'd be thanked for doing what he was designed to do. Gunther's been speaking to him and we've found that while Victor may have been created out of whatever Zane took out of Gunther's head he's mostly his own robot - there's some lingering shared memories but none of it are exact copies so that's calmed Gunther down somewhat about Victor's continued existence._

_As the team doesn't need three dang medics (yeah, Gunther's still stationed with us) I've been thinking on other ways to use Victor that'll mesh with his programed need to prevent harm...got a few ideas, maybe I'll get a chance to show you on one of your mail runs._

_Take care,_

_Dell._

She read it through a couple of times, smiling and shaking her head; it was good to hear things were going well and it at least served to brighten her mood a bit. After one last read through Shiloh folded the letter back up and slipped it back into the envelope before tucking it into a pocket; tomorrow morning she'd get up early and take another long drive to this month's designated post office and send off all the collected mail and pick up any that may have come in...

'All right...dinner, then bed,' she found herself thinking as she got up to head upstairs; she still wanted to just head straight to bed, but it was hard to say no to spending time with Alexei...that was sort of why she was even back at the club, after all.

Thinking that brought on a feeling of...almost a restlessness, followed by guilt - she was home with family, safe and with no need to be constantly worried about survival, what in the world was there to feel guilty for?

Maybe she was a bit more tired than she thought.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Alexei wasn't sitting in his usual armchair, over by the window, when she finally pushed the door open to his sitting room; that was a bit surprising as he almost seemed to live in that chair between the hours of six and eleven - he was growing old, something he'd readily admit, and napping in his chair was one of very few "hobbies" he indulged in.

The room smelled faintly of pipe tobacco - Alexei did not smoke but he enjoyed the scent - and the decorations had been changed over to dark brown woods, thick rugs, and paintings of thick, dreary forests covered partially in snow that took up the wall space in between shelves full of books. She could still "see" how the Madam had once had the room arranged and if Shiloh thought too hard on it she could almost expect the foul-tempered old hag to come hobbling out of the bedroom; that mental image was one thing she had yet to really scrub from her mind, even with the change in decor.

She paused just inside the doorway and listened; there was a sound of rustling paper coming from the bedroom, maybe she'd just arrived while he was on his way back from the bathroom or something - the door leading to the bedroom was slightly ajar so that was likely.

"I'm here," she called toward the door, the Russian words awkwardly rolling off her tongue. Alexei had been trying to teach her but she had only learned words and phrases here and there, finding it next to impossible to really learn the language when the only time he had to teach were those evenings when they had a few hours to chat and catch up...five days out of the month she wasn't even at the club, and she still had a security job here besides.

Several minutes later he emerged, a couple of newspapers that were just starting to go yellow pinned between his elbow and his side. He was stripped to the A-shirt he wore beneath his dress shirts and had left his hair down, leaving him with a frizzy gray mess framing his head; the man looked grumpier than normal and Shiloh felt that little spark of a good mood brought on by Dell's letter fade immediately at Alexei's disgruntled look.

"...what now?"

"See for self," the man rumbled, holding out the newspapers to her as he passed by on his way to the armchair.

She took them and unfolded the top one to see a headline in giant black print "VIGILANTE TAKES OUT SUSPECTED CRIME LORD AND FAMILY" and blew out a heavy sigh. "Let me guess - you somehow knew them."

"In sense that they owed us favors, yes. Not allies, but known of. Read, and see the other."

Shiloh scanned the first article - it detailed an armed hit against the Bertucin family, suspected Mafia members high up on the food chain in the New York area. According to what she picked out as she scanned she gathered that the family had been killed to a man; even the hired help - maids, drivers, gardeners - had been killed. It was a neat and tidy job, minimal collateral damage, and it seemed whoever had done the killing had seized whatever assets from the property that they could; a quick kill and cash grab, having taken place almost a month prior.

She stuck the paper under an arm and looked at the second one, finding a similar story about a separate family in the Washington, D.C. area, again killed to a man with a robbery following it.

"Please tell me this isn't a hint of what's coming for us," Shiloh sighed into the silence.

Alexei did not move from where he sat in his armchair, his massive head braced in an equally large hand. "Time will tell." There was another long pause before only his eyes moved, his gaze flicking over to her. "There is reason I kept you in dark while you were here."

Shiloh sighed again and moved over to take up her usual seat on the ottoman in front of Alexei's chair, letting the papers drop to the floor at her feet. "I always suspected, you know - there isn't anyone in Vegas that's totally clean."

"Yes, but you do not know extent of it. There are many things I tried guiding the Madam from...she did not always listen. Preferred show of power and fear. We fled because of crime, and she learned nothing."

Shiloh nodded carefully; Alexei had sometimes hinted here and there about why he and the Madam had fled Russia though he'd never said exactly why and he'd go silent if asked about it - she didn't want him to go silent now, not with...

She glanced down at the papers...if earlier she was feeling restless and guilty, now she was feeling a bit exposed.

"You've done a lot to try and undo what she's done," she said finally. "If anything that's made you more friends now than the Madam ever managed to bully before."

Alexei shrugged, his expression unreadable. "Time will tell." After another long pause he finally turned his head to look at her. "You are continuing with Yuri?"

"Yes father dearest," Shiloh replied, allowing some sarcasm to leak into her tone even as she smiled at him. "Yuri is still throwing me around the room like a rag doll, and when he's not showing me how to gut a man he's got me practicing with small arms. I'm black and blue more often than not with him around."

That managed to bring out a smile on his face. "Good. Bruises builds character."

"If I haven't built character by this point in life I don't think anything will."

The chuckle at that was deep in the chest and had her grinning at him. Finally he leveraged himself out of the chair and moved back toward the bedroom. "...be vigilant."

"That's sort of my job...actually, literally my job."

He disappeared through the doorway then came back a few minutes later with his hair pulled back up into a ponytail at the base of his skull and his dress shirt back on, his huge fingers managing to expertly button up the shirt and neatly tuck it into his pants.

"Dinner is lamb."

Shiloh made a face. "I think I'll have a salad."

"Eat meat, is better for you."

"I've subsisted on meat for most of my life, let me have my greens...especially if the main course is lamb," she added in a grumble.

He snorted and gestured and she moved to follow him out of the room, glancing back at the discarded newspapers on the floor near the ottoman.

'No rest for the wicked,' she thought, wrinkling her nose. If it wasn't one thing it was another...


	2. Chapter 2

"How's that work for you?"

On the workbench in front of him sat a small remote with its back removed and a series of wires extending out of it that were hooked up to a robot head sitting nearby; it had a tiny screen - two inches square - above five lights about the size of the eraser on a standard number 2 pencil, and beneath those were twelve buttons arranged in four rows of three. Engineer watched as the lights flickered in a rapid pattern as the screen lit up and text scrolled across it too quickly for him to register what it was saying, but finally-

"Oh my," came Victor's voice, both out of the robot head and out of the open back of the remote - Engineer needed to weld the screen in place for the speaker still - and the text on the screen slowed and the words 'oh my' appeared on it. "It is quite bewildering to be this...compact."

Engineer chuckled as he watched the words lazily scroll by as the lights blinked. "Going from man-sized to pocket-sized is going to take some adjustment I'd reckon but what's it like functioning like this? Any problems transmitting?"

"None so far, sir," the Medicbot replied. The lights went dark, then flashed one at a time from left to right and back again, giving the illusion of a moving light and the Texan had the impression the robot was "looking" around even though the remote had no camera functionality. "I do feel a slight delay in the transmission of commands but I would be more surprised if it were instantaneous - something of this size could never contain the processing power of my full body."

With a quiet laugh Engineer carefully laid the remote on the table and stretched, feeling his back pop from his neck completely down to his tailbone; there was still some work to do yet but if the bot could get used to switching between its body and the remote Engineer could start in on the next step: integrating Victor with the targeting systems on his sentries.

"Remember," Engineer said into the pause, still watching the lights flicker and dance around on the remote. "If at any time you don't want any part of this-"

"-oh no, sir, I am still willing to at least attempt it," came the robot's reply. The lights stilled briefly then all of them blinked together steadily almost like a heartbeat. "I just hope you keep in mind the fact that I was not programmed for offensive combat purposes, though the prevention of harm by eliminating threats still falls within the parameters of my original programming."

"Just don't feel like you're obligated to do it, it's your choice."

"I understand, and truthfully I'm curious to see if I can function in such a capacity...just, as I have said, please keep in mind this is not my original intent. Something built for that purpose will likely outperform me at every turn."

"I think you're underestimating yourself," Engineer said with a grin, standing up and using the toe of his boot to push his stool in under the workbench. "My sentries can only run the one program, they can't learn on the fly like you can."

"It is true - I can learn. But learning takes time and something that is created for a singular purpose does not need to worry about learning something new, nor does it have to be adaptive and master a variety of skills. It can simply be content in the fact that it is master of the one thing it was born to do."

Engineer had to chuckle at that as he moved about putting tools back into their proper places (at least, the tools he wouldn't immediately be using tomorrow when he came back to the remote). "Just how much philosophy did he program into you?"

Victor took a moment to respond. "That is a good question, I am not certain at times where the boundaries lay between what I was originally programmed with and what I have learned since. Was that a serious question?"

"I was just joking with you, Victor. I'm turning in for the night - do you want me to leave you hooked up to that thing?"

"If it is not too much trouble."

"Not any problem here, I'm more worried about your power winding down - can you tell how long you can go on your latest charge?"

Again the robot was silent and Engineer patiently waited, then "by my calculations I should last another forty seven hours at stand-by operating levels, which drops then to approximately ten hours if I explore the limits of transmission speeds and this compact form." The lights went out, then lit up one at a time slowly. "With my body stationary I will not be using much power, it is safe to say I will be fine until tomorrow morning."

"All right then, I'll see you in the morning."

The robot didn't reply as he crossed the short distance from workbench to door; his hand had barely made contact with the doorknob when an alarm began blaring and the little red light above the door began to blink rapidly.

"Well so much for bed," he muttered, spinning on a heel and going to grab his toolbox. He wasn't a fan of fighting at night but at least the invading robots would be easy to spot with their glowing eyes.

Toolbox propped on a shoulder Engineer hurried back to the door, already hearing the pounding steps of his teammates scrambling out in the hallway beyond it; as the door swung shut behind him he heard a quiet "do be careful" echoing in the empty workshop.

It was about damn time something happened - it'd been nearly three weeks since the last robot incursion and considering what had happened the last time the robot swarms had started slowing down...well, he wasn't exactly looking forward to a second - no, wait, third - coming of Zane (or someone just as bad) but at the least it'd be a welcome change from sitting around waiting on something to happen.

\--------------------------------------

Shiloh paused outside of her office when she barely managed to detect two voices conversing just beyond the door; she lingered long enough to identify who they were (or so she hoped) before pushing the door open while feigning mild surprise.

Yuri stood as stock-still and straight as ever just inside the door and slightly off to the right; in front of him leaning against Shiloh's desk (though she quickly stood up as Shiloh looked at her) was one of the newer girls - a tiny brunette named Julia that looked so young they were constantly getting questions on whether she was of legal age to work at the club (though tonight she had her hair pulled up which, at least in Shiloh's opinion, added about five years to her look).

"Evening, you two - wasn't aware we'd scheduled a meeting in my office," Shiloh said dryly, after giving the girl time to compose herself.

"It wasn't - I mean, I'm - I'm sorry, but I came to speak with you and-"

"I came to find you," Yuri spoke into the pause when Julia fell silent, her face reddening. "Alexei is wanting your company. She was in here when I arrived."

Shiloh nodded and stepped around him, ambling over to drop into her desk chair and eye the two of them. "That explains him - what'd you need, Julia?"

Julia shifted just enough to be facing both of them, acting almost like she didn't want to place Yuri completely at her back. "I'm - it's my mother, she's come to visit unexpectedly and I was wondering if I could have Sunday off," Julia rattled off quickly then, changing from twisting her fingers together to nervously smoothing the front of her dress and playing along the embroidery of the sash at her waist.

Shiloh glanced at Yuri quickly enough to note his eyes watching her fingers. Ha.

"And?" Shiloh prompted, still looking at Yuri but directing her words at the girl. 

"...and?" Julia repeated quietly, shoulders slowly hunching. 

"And is Sunday it?"

"Oh - oh, yes, I know it is our least busiest day and I can-"

Shiloh held up a hand and Julia went silent, shutting her mouth so quickly Shiloh could hear her teeth click. "Is your mother in town now? Did you check with anyone else if they minded swapping shifts with you?"

"Yes, and um, no, but..."

"Go ask uh...Susan...yeah, Susan has been looking for more hours, ask if she minds taking on your shift tonight or Saturday, or see if anyone will swap to give you something earlier. You can have Sunday - just get it in writing if anyone agrees to swap with you so I can hand it off to Edward for the scheduling file."

Julia's face brightened and she stammered out a thank you and turned to go, almost colliding with Yuri and going bright red as she stumbled around him and disappeared through the door.

Shiloh waited a few moments to be certain she was gone. "...you know, that's the fourth time this week alone she's been down here 'needing' to talk to me. Do we have a regular harassing her or someone working with her causing problems?" 

'At least this trip down here had a legitimate reason,' Shiloh found herself adding silently.

Yuri offered the tiniest of shrugs. "I am not aware. I will check."

"Thanks. What does Alexei want?"

"Am not certain."

With a sigh Shiloh pushed herself to her feet and nudged the chair back under the desk; ordinarily she wouldn't find herself dreading the reason Alexei might want to see her before her shift was technically over, but considering what she'd been told the last time... 

Yuri silently led the way back upstairs to the main floor; they had just reached the hallway that led to the stairs to the top floor when one of the other girls - ...April? She was also new and Shiloh didn't know her too well - came hurrying up to them, waving her hands.

"Wait wait wait-"

Shiloh mentally sighed. "What's wrong?"

"You have a call, from uh - ...corporate."

"...fantastic," Shiloh groaned. "All right, well - Yuri, let Alexei know I'll be up there as soon as I can."

Yuri nodded wordlessly and began to lightly jog up the stairs while Shiloh trailed along behind April toward the tiny office just off the main dining area; inside the office was a single tiny table, a stool, and a telephone that was padlocked to the table and required a security code to be input to dial out to the single number it was programmed to reach - and likewise, it would only accept calls from a select small group of numbers.

Shiloh stepped inside and let April shut the door behind her, dropping onto the stool and picking up the receiver. "This is Shiloh."

"Pauling here," came the greeting - it was always the same greeting - and to her ears it sounded like Pauling was standing in a wind tunnel. "I have some bad news."

"It's always bad news when you call, I'm used to it by now," Shiloh replied as she stuffed a finger into the ear the phone wasn't pressed to. "Where are you? I can barely hear what you're saying."

"Give me a minute then."

Along with the noise of the wind Shiloh heard what she thought was Pauling jogging and the shuffling of papers, then the wind-noise died down somewhat. "Better?"

"A bit. What's going on?"

"A bit of a freak accident, or really bad luck, but since I don't like being the bearer of bad news...you're going to do it instead."

"...what?"

"Look, there was a bank robbery in Boston yesterday - some sort of gang dispute, blood money, that sort of business - and uh, well. To put it bluntly, Scout's mother was in the wrong bank at wrong the time."

Shiloh felt her stomach clench. "What?" she repeated.

"The funeral is going to be Thursday, I'm told."

"Oh hell," Shiloh whispered after a pause. 

"I don't have time to travel back to New Mexico and I feel like this sort of news should be delivered in person - ...that, and I don't want Scout to interpret any sort of sympathy from me as something more than it is, you know?"

Shiloh was only half listening and nodded, then remembered she had a phone to her ear. "Yeah, yeah - I'll head out...first thing tomorrow morning, I guess. Goddamn, this is going to kill him."

"Let's hope not, we still need him - TF Industries does, I mean. Not me."

Shiloh opened her mouth to make a noise of acknowledgement, then something Pauling had said hit her: a gang dispute? "What do you mean a gang dispute?"

"Preliminary reports show members of a local gang entered the bank and gunned down everyone in it, robbed the place, that sort of thing - apparently a rival family owned the bank and used it as a front to launder money from drug and exotic animal trade."

"...and you know this...how?"

"Newspapers."

She thought of New York, and the D.C. attack. "Coincidence entirely, then?"

"That Scout's mother was there, yes."

"And there's nothing more to it than that?"

Shiloh again heard paper being rustled. "What else would there be?"

Shiloh took a breath - this was a gamble, definitely, but... "There were attacks in New York and D.C. - Bertucin family ring any bells?"

Pauling hesitated just enough that Shiloh knew the answer even before the woman responded. "How did you find out about them?"

"Newspapers," Shiloh replied dryly.

Pauling actually snorted quietly at that. "All right, yes, I know who the Bertucins were - yes, 'were.' I can't discuss the details right now, could you focus on getting word to Scout? I've already cleared a few days for him to travel to attend the funeral - oh, and remind him not to discuss details of what he does for a living."

The line clicked and went silent and Shiloh sat there for a long moment with the receiver loosely held in her hand before she set it back down in the cradle and locked the phone.

This was going to destroy him, poor Scout...

After some time of sitting in the silence, sorting thoughts, Shiloh stood and left the tiny office, letting April lock everything back up behind her; Alexei had known of the two attacks and of the two families, Pauling had just admitted she knew of the Bertucins - that may as well be a giant neon sign flashing "WARNING" so far as Shiloh was concerned...

She found Alexei in his sitting room with Yuri standing beside his chair, the two men conversing quietly in Russian but going silent when she walked in.

Looking between the two, noting the drawn look on Alexei's face and Yuri's stiffer than usual body language, Shiloh again could picture a neon warning sign. "...let me guess - Boston?"

\------------------------------------------------------------

Sniper tended to always get up before any of his teammates (usually to make certain there was coffee made) but this morning was early even for him; he was used to seeing the sun rise but normally it was already a sliver on the horizon when he rolled out of his bunk or got out of his camper - today it was still dark when he propped the door of his camper open and sat in the doorway with a mug of coffee in hand, and because it was still dark it was impossible to miss the headlights coming toward the base. Based on how far away they were he placed the vehicle a good two, possibly three miles away still, which gave him plenty of time to wonder on who was coming and what that meant.

Honestly it could only be one of two people and Shiloh had already done the mail run...that had to be Pauling driving in and if it was her she'd either be bringing relocation orders or pink-slips, and if it was the latter at least none of them would be surprised.

As dull as things had been lately (four robot attacks in six weeks, and barely a hundred robots per) there had been talk among the others about their contracts finally ending - if Gray Mann wasn't a threat anymore then there wouldn't be a need for a defense against him, meaning they'd all be out of jobs.

While Sniper liked steady work he wasn't as upset about it as the others had been - Medic had bemoaned the idea of having to set up a new lab and acquire new medical suppliers, Scout had gone on about how he had a big family he helped support and that he needed to make as much money as possible while he was young, Pyro had grumbled something but Sniper could rarely make out what the male said unless he was standing right next to him...at some point Sniper had tuned them out but everyone seemed to have some reason to want this stupid war to go on as long as possible.

Not that he blamed them - the money was fantastic and he liked being able to send home as much as he did - but eventually it led to them all debating in circles and Sniper found that as boring as he did shooting robots...if that was Pauling bringing word of their contract termination at least it would put an end to the mind-numbing discussions about it.

He took his time sipping and watching the vehicle approach; when he'd finished his mug and ducked back inside the camper for a refill he could hear it rolling up to the base's gate, then heard the car door open as the driver got out.

With a fresh mug of coffee in hand Sniper stepped out of the camper and looked toward the gate, eyeing the silhouette of the driver and the shadow cast by the headlights as the figure unlocked and swung the gate wide open.

That wasn't Pauling, it was too tall.

And that wasn't her car either - it wasn't a car at all actually, it was too large, it had to be a truck.

As their visitor got back into their truck and drove inside, then had to get back out and shut the gate behind them, Sniper closed the camper door and headed toward the base with coffee in hand; he reached the main door just as the driver of the truck parked and got out, and in the weak light from the bulb mounted by the door he caught a glimpse of reddish brown hair heading toward him.

"...the blazes are you doing here?" he asked.

Shiloh lifted her head a bit; there were circles under her eyes and she didn't look particularly happy. "Good morning to you too...enjoy it while it lasts, I'm about to ruin Scout's."

When she'd walked up to him he stepped out of her way and far enough from the swing of the door to not get hit by it, then as an afterthought offered her the mug of coffee; she took it with a grateful look and silently went inside, Sniper on her heels.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's...you know, I'll let Scout tell you - if he wants - after I've talked to him. Which bunk is his?"

"Fifth one down on the left."

"Thanks - and thanks," she said, gesturing to the coffee. "I won't ask how you knew I was coming."

"I didn't," Sniper replied. "Happy coincidence."

She grimaced at that. "Yeah...I guess." They paused at the door Sniper had indicated was Scout's and she took a deep breath as she raised a hand, poised to knock but pausing to look at him when he put a hand on the wall next to the door and leaned.

"Should I keep the rest of them away until you've had your chat?"

She nodded, licking her bottom lip. "Probably for the best - no eavesdroppers, and for the love of God warn everyone off from teasing Scout for the next...I don't know, decade."

With a nod he spun on a heel and began to head back the way they'd come - he would quietly warn the others off as he'd said but he wanted another coffee and had just given away the one he'd had - and behind him he heard the sharp sound of Shiloh knocking on Scout's door.

There was a small voice in the back of his head wondering if Scout was going to be the first one let go but...if he was getting fired then he wouldn't be around for anyone to tease, so why would Shiloh have mentioned that? 

He supposed he'd find out later.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been a short and painful "chat."

At first Scout had thought it was a joke (albeit one that wasn't funny) but then that had faded to a sort of soft-spoken desperation and denial; when Shiloh had made it very clear that she was not joking and that this had really, truly happened, Scout had crumpled like a rag doll into the floor and had started to quietly weep, still denying that it had happened, insisting it had to be a joke.

Shiloh had at first awkwardly tried comforting him but once it had sank in that she hadn't lied to him he'd simply asked for her to leave him alone; she'd retreated and left him in the solitude of his room and had poked around until she found the mess hall, finding an empty seat in the furthest corner and sitting there holding her now-cold coffee.

The other mercs trickled in one at a time - Engineer had come in first to get breakfast going for the others; he'd seemed pleasantly surprised to see her but after a very short explanation of why she was there he'd left her to sit in silence, going about his business of breakfast-making but purposely keeping an eye on her as he worked. When others entered he'd quietly signaled to them to not ask or bother her and so Shiloh had received only brief greetings from them that she'd dully responded to.

Eventually Sniper came in and despite Engineer's gestured warning he came over to drop into a chair nearby.

"Well?"

With a sigh she sat up straighter in her chair and rubbed at her eyes. "The short version is Scout's mother was murdered in a-"

She stopped at the sound of shattering glass and looked over to the table that had the coffeemaker sitting on it; Spy was standing in front of it and had dropped the mug he'd been holding, and was seemingly oblivious to the coffee that had splashed up his pantleg and across his shoes as he slowly turned to face her.

"...excuse me?" Spy asked quietly, absently brushing a hand down his tie. "Did I just...overhear-"

"-yeah, what DID you just say, lass?" Demo interjected, twisting to toss an arm over the back of his chair to face where she sat. "Murder?"

"I - look, guys, I don't want to say too much about it out of respect for Scout, but his mother got gunned down in a bank robbery. It was um-" she glanced at Sniper then back to Spy "-sheer coincidence that she was there, but she didn't survive it. No one in that bank did."

Demo frowned heavily, turning to look toward the door that opened into the hallway that led to their rooms. "Ach...poor lad. Bet he's not taking it well, aye?"

"I don't know how anyone WOULD take something like this well, but no, he wasn't," Shiloh sighed. She didn't argue or resist when Sniper plucked the mug of cold coffee from her hands and stood, moving toward the coffeemaker (and stepping over the puddle of coffee and mug shards in the process). "He asked me to leave him alone but I didn't get the chance to tell him that travel arrangements were already made for him to go to the funeral, spend a few days with his family."

Quite suddenly Spy was across the room and standing at her elbow. "What happened? How did it happen?"

She rubbed her face again. "From what I was told she was in the bank when it got attacked."

"Which bank?"

...she supposed she should have asked Pauling that. "I'm not sure."

Spy's jaw clenched, the skin around his eyes tightening as well, then he inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. "When is the funeral?"

"Thursday."

"I would speak with you in private."

"Uh-" She glanced up at him and met his gaze; in this moment he looked a lot older than usual - tired and worn, and while his expression was neutral there was a sadness to his eyes that was apparent even to her. "-all right, whenever you'd like," she said finally.

"Now would be preferable."

"Lead the way then."

She tried not to notice that he left a small trail of brown droplets as he hurried out of the room; he led her to his own room, ushered her inside, then shut and locked the door behind him.

Where Scout's room had been rather bare with only clothing and a few items of baseball memorabilia visible Spy's room had a nice desk, an armchair, a grate-covered heater that imitated the look of a fireplace, and bookcases full of leather-bound books with their titles in gold leaf; there was the ever-present smell of cigarettes but it was underlaid with cologne and the leather of the books and was pleasantly warm without being overwhelming despite the fact they were in the desert.

Shiloh found herself standing awkwardly next to the armchair as Spy began to pace in front of the fake fireplace. If he had asked about the bank specifically...she had an idea of what this talk would be about, and was willing to wait for him to start asking questions before she started offering answers.

Finally, "when did it happen?"

She leaned against the chair, resting an arm across its winged back. "I'm...not actually sure, Pauling called to let me know about it two days ago - I left yesterday morning to drive here, had to take the longest route to keep attention off me, as usual, otherwise I would have been here sooner."

Abruptly he stopped pacing and turned to look at her. "What do you know?"

She thought of the Bertucins, and of D.C., and of Pauling knowing about it but not able to discuss the details. Something was up...this couldn't have just been coincidence. "...well..."


	3. Chapter 3

"When are you heading back?"

The truck dipped a bit as Sniper settled onto its tailgate, his backside mere inches from the soles of Shiloh's boots; he heard a slow intake of breath and the shuffle of cloth against the metal bed of the truck as she rolled over going from prone to on her side to peer sleepily at him, eyes squinting against the sunlight that was growing brighter by the minute.

"Whenever Scout makes an appearance," she replied, relenting and raising a hand to shield her eyes. 

He tried not to react to the large red crease imprint on her forehead from laying on her arm, mouth twitching with a suppressed grin. "You know we've got empty bunks, right?"

She sniffed and pulled her legs up, curling up on her side with a grunt. "Here's fine - got the truck for this exact reason, wasn't enough room in that car...prefer being outside anyway."

Sniper allowed the grin to come at that; he could relate to that sentiment - there were a lot of times he'd slept under, on top of, or just near the camper rather than inside it.

During the pause Shiloh squeezed one eye shut and looked up at the sun before stretching back out. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Trying to get rid of me?"

"That's not what I meant," came her dry reply, along with some fidgeting as she re-settled. "I figured you'd be off shooting robots by now."

His lips twitched into a frown. "You'd think that."

"...isn't that what you were hired for?"

"Things've been slow around here lately, sheila. The others are wondering if this ain't the end of it."

She was silent for a very long moment, prompting him to shift to the side to look back at her only to find her staring silently at the upraised wheel well on the opposite side of the truck bed. "...I'd rather not think about the future."

Sniper shrugged but...something about her tone... "A contract's a contract - they're not meant to last forever."

Shiloh snorted loudly and with a small groan rolled over and pushed herself upright, moving to push a strand of hair out of her face that had escaped from the bun the rest of it was pulled into. "I know that, it doesn't mean I have to like it, and with everything else-" She trailed off into a heavy and glanced back toward the base. "Can I ask you a really stupid question?"

His only response was to at first silently raise an eyebrow; this close it was easy to read her body language and, surprisingly, she had the look of someone ready to jump away at a moment's notice...tense, uneasy. He pulled his legs up onto the truck, bracing the heels of his boots into the grooves on the tailgate and draping his arms over his knees. "What's the problem?"

She was quiet for another long pause, her attention moving from him to stare back at the base. "Look, it's - I already shared some of this with Spy," she finally said, "but there's something...coming down the pipes, I think - and it's not you guys losing your jobs," she added after a breath. "I didn't even know things were slowing down here and that brings up another set of problems, but what's got me worried right now is something may be gunning for my...family, I think."

Sniper frowned heavily. "How do you figure?"

"Alexei found out about two attacks up in New York and the D.C. area, and also about the attack in Boston - he wouldn't elaborate but he somehow knew all three families. He's told me to be vigilant, which if HE'S worried then that's reason enough to get a bit paranoid, but on top of that Pauling knew about the attacks before she called to tell me to get out here to deliver the news to Scout, so...I don't know what's going on but it's not good and once again I'm out of my depth." She rubbed her face with both hands, fingertips massaging the fading red imprint on her forehead. "...the hell am I supposed to do, Mundy?"

"What kind of attacks are we talking about, exactly?"

"Complete massacres: every family member, every hired hand - I bet even the family pets got a bullet through the head," she sighed. "Mafia members, crime syndicate, gang-related - at this point I don't care who they were or why they were targeted, I don't know half of what the Madam had her fingers in...I know Alexei's been trying to slowly unravel our connections to things, for which I'm grateful because I don't particularly like seeing behind that curtain now, but I trust him and he thinks there's trouble coming..." After another pause Shiloh rubbed both hands across her face then held them there, her voice muffled as she continued. "...luck can only carry me so far, and I'm highly aware that I've been stupidly lucky up to this point...beyond lucky - a level of luck that's unheard of. And I don't want to keep depending on that. What do I do?"

"...Pauling knows?"

"She knows something, but I get the feeling everyone that isn't me does." 

Anything further she might have said was interrupted by the distant click of the door opening; Sniper looked up to see a red-faced Scout with a small bag slung over his shoulder slowly plodding toward them. Shiloh noted his approach as well and slid along on her backside around Sniper to drop her feet to the ground and stand.

"You need me - us - you call," Sniper muttered. When she didn't immediately respond he tapped her shoulder and she turned tired eyes on him.

"Providing you've still got a contract and are here," she said quietly, "you're several hours away - what good could you do even if I did call you for help?"

She stepped around him and went to meet Scout as the man reached the truck, all worry gone from her face and instead replaced with an expression of cautious friendliness; Sniper felt a rather uncomfortable knot settle into the pit of his stomach.

As much as he hated to admit it she had a point: there was no way in hell he or the rest of the mercs could hope to reach her in time if she needed assistance.

He moved away from the truck and watched silently as Shiloh led Scout around to the passenger side and popped the door open for him before taking his bag from limp fingers and patting his shoulder as she tossed the bag into the bed of the truck, the vehicle bouncing gently from the impact. She glanced up a single time toward Sniper and the friendly look briefly evaporated - she was tired and worried, and he didn't like that look on her at all.

But he remained quiet as she walked back around and climbed into the driver's seat...then immediately got back out and went to shut the tailgate.

"...be careful," he finally said, as she went to pass him. "And even if you don't think it'll help a damn thing, call if you need it."

"Stay in one piece, I'll be back for the mail...whenever," was her reply as she again climbed into the truck, started it up, and backed up enough to cut a sharp turn and head back toward the gate that led to the road.

For several minutes Sniper stood there and stared after it, even long after the truck had left his line of sight; a combination of seeing Shiloh rattled and a general feeling of helplessness had him feeling rather unsettled, but something she said suddenly came to the forefront in his mind: she'd talked to Spy, had likely explained to him what she'd just told Sniper, and if there was anyone on this damn base who could piece together something out of nearly nothing, it'd be that damned Frenchman.

And a half hour later, Sniper couldn't _find_ him.

\-----------------------------------------

The atmosphere of the club felt normal as Shiloh led Scout inside through the front doors; there was a chorus of greetings from the girls working and the security standing around and like magic Yuri seemed to appear from thin air at her elbow, ready to be her silent shadow as usual.

All of this she ignored as she tried to keep up a light-hearted conversation with Scout - he'd at least started talking once they'd hit the Nevada border but he'd gone silent again and while Shiloh recognized that he was mourning the silence from the usually talkative male had slowly started driving her insane.

Halfway to the elevators she finally gave up on the small talk and resigned herself to an awkward ride up to the top floor; in the quiet the elevator seemed to take an eternity to come down to them but a startled squeak sounded when the doors open and Julia stepped out and almost collided with Yuri, the young Russian reaching out to take her by the shoulders and steady her while guiding her around their little group in one smooth motion.

Shiloh had never seen someone's face go that red before. "Evening, Julia - is Alexei upstairs?"

"Y-yes," the woman stuttered, looking everywhere but at Yuri with her gaze finally settling solidly on Scout. "I just took h-his dinner up. H-he didn't seem to be in - I mean, he's not upset but not-"

"I get it, it's fine," Shiloh interrupted - she found herself not willing to tolerate the girl's skittish stammering tonight. "Did you swap shifts with anyone? Don't forget to turn it in in writing."

"Yes ma'am, it was all settled and I didn't forget," the girl replied in a rush. "I'm sorry I'll get out of your hair."

"Right, good ni- your shift is over, right?" What time was it, even...

"Yes ma'am."

"Yuri, walk her to her car."

Shiloh stepped into the elevator at that, turning on a heel to raise an eyebrow at the two of them as they both protested. 

"I'm f-fine, ma'am-"

"I am to remain with you-"

When Scout was in beside her she reached out to slap the button for the top floor, taking in the sight of Yuri (who looked only slightly displeased) and Julia (who looked mortified) standing there staring at one another in the hall...it wasn't just Julia's stammering she had no patience for tonight, she supposed. "I'm the boss and I said so, end of story."

The doors slid shut and ended any further grumblings and Shiloh blew out a sigh, shoulders hunching. Ultimately she'd had Julia's safety in mind - she hadn't forgotten about Alexei's warning to be vigilant and if even the hired help weren't safe...mentally she made a note to check on how all employees arrived and left - but she had to admit there was a small part of her that was enjoying the fact she'd finally found something to tease Yuri with; that man was so hard to read, harder still to converse with and feel comfortable around, and the fact that now she'd found a button she could press brightened her mood a little bit as she thought back to catching Yuri watching the girl smooth her dress out. It'd not been the first thing she'd noticed him watching, and that night hadn't been the first time she'd found the two in close proximity either...if she could provide a bit of security for one of her employees while also putting him in the company of a woman he seemed to fancy it was a win-win situation so far as she was concerned.

Granted, noble intentions or not, she now had to wonder how the man would pay her back.

"He is going to bruise the hell out of me next time I train with him," she said into the elevator's silence. Scout gave her a curious look and she shrugged. "Hand to hand self-defense...he tosses me around like you wouldn't believe as it is, I might start accumulating frequent flier miles after this little stunt."

"...I don't think I follow."

"...he's going to beat the crap out of me, Scout."

"I got that, but why?"

"He likes her, or I think he does anyway."

"Oh....oh, I gotcha. He ain't the talking type?"

"I'd get a longer conversation out of a brick," Shiloh said dryly as the elevator doors opened. "And probably just as many bruises from banging my head against it. Are you hungry?"

"A bit, yeah. More tired than anything - kinda just want to go to bed and forget today ever happened."

She bit back on her response to his 'tired' comment - she'd had to take the longest route to and from the base and was functioning on only a few hours of sleep and gas station food...but, well, she wasn't grieving, and now was hardly the time to let loose with a joke that could backfire and make him feel guilty instead. "Let's get some food in you then you can head to bed. At least you can eat without Yuri staring you down."

"He follow you around then?"

"He's something of a bodyguard...and he takes his job really damn seriously."

"Ah, yeah - guess that's why he didn't seem happy you ditched him."

She let out a sigh that trailed into a small laugh. "That's partly why, yeah. Anyway - I'll check with downstairs and see what's on the menu tonight. Are you a drinker?"

"Not much of one, the crap they got at base is...uh, crap."

With a shake of the head she unlocked and pushed one of the doors open, revealing a room done up in deep blues and blacks. "All right, well, make yourself at home, I'll be back shortly - I'll see what we've got on draft this month too."

Scout ambled into the room and tossed his bag onto the foot of the bed as the door slowly swung shut; Shiloh turned around and made it three steps down the hallway before she heard a quiet voice utter "I prefer my wines red, Miss MacKenna."

The air in front of her rippled and she swung on instinct before she registered the voice; a gloved hand caught her by the wrist and yanked her forward, an invisible figure stepping behind her and forcing her arm down to her side before resting its free hand on her hip.

"S-" she exhaled noisily as her tired mind finally caught up. "-Spy, are you trying to get yourself shot? How the hell are you even here?"

"You left the tailgate down," came the quiet voice, directly into her ear. "I am going to release you now."

The hand on her wrist let go and the hand on her hip moved as well; she turned in time to see Spy's cloak melt away, the Frenchman smoothly clasping his hands behind his back. "You seem a bit fatigued, Miss MacKenna - your reflexes are lacking."

"What the hell are you doing here, Spy? Thank God I sent Yuri off with Julia or you'd be smeared across the walls."

He shrugged. "I would not have approached you until you were alone."

She inhaled and exhaled slowly - his sudden appearance had scared the crap out of her - and tried to get her racing pulse under control. "I tell you about how I'm worried we're going to get attacked here and you think the best course of action is to scare me out of the blue? And how did you get here? I left the tailgate down for - I was asleep in the back of the truck, how long were you standing there waiting?"

"I followed you out after we spoke - it was my intention to accompany you back to Las Vegas, though I decided my presence would be rather...upsetting, to our Scout. So I remained hidden."

"...in the back of my truck."

"In the back of your truck," Spy repeated, smiling faintly. "It was not ideal, and not comfortable in the slightest, but it worked."

"When did you...?"

"I was boarding your vehicle when you threw Scout's bag into the back - it very nearly hit me, in fact."

She thought of how the truck had dipped...why it didn't occur to her that a light bag like that shouldn't have caused the truck to move as it did...

Her thought process must have shown on her face because Spy's smile widened. "I did say your reflexes are lacking - perhaps your perception is as well. Domestic life has dulled your sharpness, Miss MacKenna."

"I- just- what do you want? Why are you here?"

Spy went silent, glancing briefly toward the closed door that was all that separated the two of them from Scout. "...I have a favor to ask, if you are willing."

"A favor."

He nodded and turned his attention back to her. "Perhaps two favors, depending on how irritated my employers are at my unexcused absence."

Oh hell, she hadn't even thought of that... "...what do you need, Spy?" Shiloh finally muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I wish to speak to your father, regarding these attacks. I wish to hear for myself what he knows."

She blinked at that. "You...just want to talk to Alexei?"

"Yes, and I am hoping you could persuade him to be fully honest."

"He didn't lie about the attacks, he has no reason to," came her quick reply and Spy held up a hand.

"I did not mean to imply that he was, I more meant it is my hope you could persuade him to give me all details - even such details that he would not consider pertinent or important."

For a long pause she simply mulled that over; Spy had somehow found her when Zane had nabbed her, he had to have SOME skill at using even the smallest details to fill in a bigger picture...but what was he expecting Alexei to tell him? So far as she knew Alexei only knew what he'd gotten from the newspaper articles...right?

But then again, he'd lied to her all throughout her childhood about what was happening behind the scenes at the club - what she knew about that she'd pieced together on her own from rumors and eavesdropping.

"I..."

She was saved from replying when Scout's door suddenly opened and both of them turned to see him framed in the doorway; to say he looked mad was an understatement and Shiloh actually took a few steps toward him when he stormed up to Spy.

"Scout-"

"What the HELL is he doing here?!"

"Scout, hang on a moment-"

"No, you shut up! YOU. What the hell are you doing here? You ain't going NEAR my Ma, or my family, you hear me you fucking French twat!"

Spy raised an eyebrow at the insult but didn't respond as Shiloh wedged herself between the two males. "Scout, calm down - he's not here for that-"

"Why ELSE would he be here? You know he's slept with my Ma? Huh? Did you know that?" Scout shouted into her face, his face red and a few flecks of spittle hitting her - not on purpose, but he either didn't notice or care as he tried to push her out of the way. "He's slept with her and he fucking TAUNTS me about it every goddamn chance he gets - it make you feel good, huh? Make you feel like a big man? She's dead and you're here and I ain't letting you-"

"ENOUGH," Shiloh gave Scout a push back; the male stumbled and stood there, panting and red-faced. "He's not here for that, he's here to talk to my dad, all right? Take a breath and calm down, good lord."

All through the tirade Spy had stood there silently, expression blank and staring not so much at the male as he was through him; when Scout finally went quiet the Frenchman blinked and brought his gaze back to the here-and-now, focusing on the younger man and sighing quietly.

"My condolences for your loss, Scout-"

"What do you even fucking care? You lost a reliable one-night stand, I lost my MOTHER and I don't want you here!"

"I am trying very hard to remain sympathetic to your situation," Spy replied, his voice a step above a growl, "but you're speaking of a relationship you know nothing about. I suggest you silence yourself before you say something we'll both regret."

"Oh, and what are you going to do about it, frogman? You think one apology is going to magically make me forget all the damn times you've taunted me about my Ma? All the gross jokes and bullshit you spouted? Huh? Let's hear some more!" 

Balling his hands into fists Scout looked between Shiloh and Spy, chest heaving and the beginnings of tears in his eyes. "Come on, let's hear more about how you'd come creeping around anytime you wanted a quick one - in, out, and done, right? Right? Kids in bed, put the mom to bed too then leave in the morning because who fucking cares once you're done?"

"Scout."

Shiloh tensed at Spy's tone - maybe she SHOULD have kept Yuri with her after all.

"I'm right-fucking-here, funny man! I don't hear you talking-"

Spy was around her quickly with only the briefest brush of his elbow against her side; Scout was clearly not expecting the man to move so quickly, his only reaction to slap at the hand that came up not to grab him but to come to rest just beneath his chin, solid and unwavering but also not touching him - a clear warning and also a request for silence that Scout surprisingly followed.

"Let me tell you a story - since you have so fervently begged for one - of a remarkable, vibrant woman I met over twenty years ago," Spy whispered, lips hardly moving. "I met her in the very bank she was murdered in - I was there tracking down a target and his money trail, she was simply a busy mother heavy with child who dropped her checkbook...and I handed it back to her. A simple act of kindness, that was all it took...I will not go into details of our courtship because those are private memories I cherish more than you can imagine, but I want you to know something, you indignant little shit: I proposed to that woman three times and was denied three times. You bemoan the supposed one-night stands and dalliances I had with her? It was what she wanted: she wanted her mystery lover to visit in the night and vanish with the sunrise, she didn't want a husband. This was her desire, her fantasy, and I indulged it because I loved her - you ask why I taunt you? Why I twist that knife as much as possible at every opportunity? It is to remind myself that familial relations between myself and you are not to be nurtured, because that is not what she wanted and I will be damned if I'll go against those wishes, especially now."

Scout's face had gone steadily paler as the man talked, the anger visibly fading away to something resembling an exhausted nausea, and when Spy went silent all the younger man could do was glance between the man's cold eyes and the finger that was still just under his chin.

After what felt like forever Spy straightened and dropped his hands to his sides. "If you are done lashing out in your grief I would remind you that you have a plane to catch in the morning and that I have work to do. I will not be going to the funeral, you have my word...but I will be discovering who killed her, why they killed her, and I will make them suffer for it."

For a few precious seconds the only sounds were of the three of them breathing, then Scout spun around and stormed into his room and slammed the door behind him; the click of the lock turning was as loud as dynamite afterward, and Shiloh let out a breath she wasn't aware she'd been holding and glanced at Spy from the corner of an eye.

He stood motionless and staring at the now-locked door; there were lines around his eyes and heavy lines around his mouth - in that moment he looked much older than he seemed and Shiloh had the impression that he'd truly let his mask fall away (and not the physical one he wore, either). After a time he turned to look at her and the supposed age fell away as he put back on the face he showed to the world.

"Might I bother you for a drink before I speak with your father, Miss MacKenna?"

"Y-yeah, sure, not a problem," she replied. "What am I getting?"

"The strongest liquor you have."

She rubbed her hands on her pants then held them out to her side in a sort of helpless motion - her brain was still trying to process everything it had just taken in and it took a moment to sort out even the simple command of 'open mouth and say something.' "Sure thing. I'll uh - my room is the one right- see the silver-lined, brass doorknob?"

Spy nodded silently.

"It's uh, unlocked - go ahead and wait there, make yourself at home."

With another nod Spy moved toward the indicated door and Shiloh all but ran down the hall back to the elevator; when she was inside and the doors shut she felt the hot rush of anxiety and her eyes watered - even her hand was shaking when she went to select the ground floor.

It hadn't been...a good couple of days, all things considered.


	4. Chapter 4

"Can I ask you something? ...well, a couple of somethings, actually."

Spy didn't immediately reply; Shiloh's room wasn't that large but it was at least large enough for a bed, a desk, and two armchairs with a small table between them. He had taken up residence in one of the chairs and had a glass of brandy (and the bottle) within easy reach on the table, having been uninterested in eating anything.

In the silence that followed Shiloh shut the door behind her and came in to drop into the other armchair; every bit of her was wanting nothing more than to go to bed - she'd made sure Scout had gotten at least a small dinner in him, had calmed him down and had all but tucked him into bed before she'd come back with the brandy for Spy, then Alexei had come to see what the argument in the hallway had been about and she'd had to handle THAT-

-and now she was in her room, within sight of her own bed, and it'd likely be awhile before she could crawl into it...it left her with a sense of obligation warring with an irritation born of exhaustion in her mind that she tried her best to ignore.

"You asked me about the bank - back when we were still at base," she added a moment afterward. "And then, out in the hall just now...did you somehow already find out which bank the shooting happened at?"

Spy stirred just enough to lift his tumbler to his lips and take a sip, the rest of him still. "...she has banked at the same place since I have known her...it could be no other bank, but I wanted there to be no doubt so I inquired."

"I guess that would make sense, providing you knew she hadn't changed her banking habits."

"She has not," Spy said quietly. "...after I proposed to her the second time and she refused me I promised that she would at least want for nothing. I have set up quite a lengthy chain to accomplish it but a part of my earnings go to her. To that bank, in fact. It should have occurred to me at the time, but given the topic of conversation..."

"Oh."

He went silent again and Shiloh looked over to the clock sitting on her desk - it was a quarter after three...Alexei had agreed to speak to Spy but not until the afternoon, after his "business appointments" were taken care of. She had a key in her pocket for another room for the Frenchman's use but since he too was in mourning she was reluctant to bring up that fact - it would be like asking him to leave, tossing him out, and that wasn't something she was willing to do given the circumstances.

"...was everything you said true, then? Why wouldn't she want to marry you?"

Spy snorted loudly and waved a hand in dismissal as he pushed himself out of the chair to pace, with Shiloh discretely gauging the amount left in the brandy bottle and deciding he hadn't imbibed enough to be close to intoxicated yet (so at least there wasn't a need to watch for stumbling like she would with a club patron downstairs).

"As I said she did not want to make a husband out of me, she wanted an exotic secret. Admittedly I have not been to visit her in nearly a year...I regret it now, but at the time I thought it would be prudent to begin removing myself from her life in the hope she could find a more permanent happiness - if not another marriage then someone who would at least be more available than I."

"And what did she have to say about that?"

Spy paused to pick up his drink and drain the brandy before setting the tumbler down carefully on the table, a bitter smile on his face. "She does not know - I came and went as I was able, the times between my visits varying. What was this but another long absence?"

Shiloh frowned a bit. "Don't you...think she deserved to know you were trying to make an exit?"

"It hardly matters now, does it?"

"I guess not."

She sat and watched him pace, the time ticking away on the clock; some time later she found herself jerking awake, having dozed off in her chair. Spy likewise had dozed off in his chair and she noted that well over half the bottle of brandy was gone. 

After rubbing out the crick in her neck she stood and stepped over to him, managing to prod him awake enough to budge him over toward the bed and get him on top of it; she wasn't about to undress him so if he wanted his jacket or shoes off that would be up to him but she turned out the light and quietly left, fishing the key out of her pocket and heading to what was supposed to be Spy's room...it's not like it mattered, she supposed - a bed was a bed, and so long as she didn't catch him rifling through her things leaving him in there wasn't a big deal.

She did at least take off her jacket, holsters, and shoes before she fell into bed.

\-----------------------------------------------------

When morning came (and boy did it come quick...) she saw Scout off at the front of the club before heading to check in with the morning shifters and make sure everyone scheduled was there and ready to work; at some point Yuri took up his usual position of "at her elbow" and if she thought she could get away with it she would have dumped all her duties on him and crawled back into bed for another hour or two of sleep.

But...there were other matters to attend to. At least the kitchen always had coffee available.

Once her morning routine had been completed that left her about a half hour to herself before she'd have to worry about crowds flocking in, and there was the meeting between Spy and Alexei sometime this afternoon...she found herself dropping into her desk chair in her office, leaning back and staring blankly up at the ceiling - the urge to doze off was hard to ignore but if she fell asleep now she'd be groggy for the rest of the day and a sluggish security guard would be pretty damn useless.

"Could I bother you for another cup of coffee?" she asked into the quiet after a moment or two, lowering her chin just enough to look at where Yuri stood just inside and to the side of the door. "...straight black, as strong as they can make it?"

He did not move or otherwise respond for a few breaths, then "you should rest."

"I'll rest when I'm not busy - I just need to reach an acceptable level of functional to make it through the day."

An honest-to-God tiny flicker of a smile crossed his features before he turned and pulled the door open - quickly enough that he pulled the person on the other side of it in with the door, their hand still on the doorknob and their entrance marked with a squeak that ended with colliding with him.

Shiloh managed to suppress her groan. "Yes, Julia?"

The younger woman looked mortified and ready to drop at Yuri's feet; he calmly guided her to the side and stepped around her, leaving her staring after him with eyes the size of dinner plates.

If she weren't so lacking in sleep she could have had a bit of fun with this, but... "...Julia?" Shiloh prompted again.

The woman flinched and turned abruptly to face her, hands holding the sides of her skirt with a white-knuckle grip. "Yes, ma'am...sorry, I s-should have knocked before trying to come in but-"

"-let me preface this with the fact that I've had maybe three hours of sleep," Shiloh interrupted, tone dry and quiet. "If I sound grumpier than normal."

She went from holding her skirts to twisting her fingers together. "Y-yes, sorry, I'll um, I'll get right to the point - I think someone followed me to work t-today and I think it's the same person that's been following me home except for when you had Yuri walk me-"

"-hold up, back up," Shiloh interrupted, feeling a pressure behind her eyes. She sat up in her chair as Julia stood there and fidgeted in place. "Someone's been following you around?"

"Yes ma'am."

"How long? Club patron? Do you know?"

She shook her head. "I don't know and I wish I did but I first noticed someone walking along behind me when I was heading to my car and um, I think it's the same person each t-time and I feel like someone's watching me when I go out."

Shiloh felt her headache intensify - she'd sent Yuri to walk with her both as a little jab at the unflappable male and also because of this whole business of potentially being attacked - she hadn't actually expected her paranoia to "pay off" so quickly nor was she exactly happy to hear about the time frame. "You have any identifying features?"

"Tall, and um, in dark gray or black or somewhere in-between - suit, I think, and they're wearing big dark glasses so I can't really recall the face but I know it's a man and it's the same person each time but I notice them in different places but they're usually behind me and I see them once I'm a block away though sometimes further-"

Again Shiloh held up a hand. "-exactly how far away do you park?"

"I don't own a car ma'am, I walk to work - I live six blocks away in those apartments over on Weston and Eighteenth on the eighth floor south side. Yuri walked me all the way to the elevator and that's the first time I feel like whoever was following me wasn't there that time. I've never really worried about walking to and from work because all the streets are lit up and there's always people around so if I needed help I could just s-scream but I know I never see the same people going home so that's why I think I started noticing this man following me but then again I don't- I don't know, ma'am. I don't know why someone would follow me." She ended her rush of words with a little huff, visibly swallowing hard.

Shiloh went quiet, letting all of that sink in, then finally sighed heavily and used the edge of the desk to leverage herself out of her chair - how many times had Julia made up excuses to come down to Shiloh's office in recent memory? Hadn't she just said something to Yuri about this? Damn it, damn it, damn it... "And you didn't think to say something before now?"

Julia's face darkened and she stared down at the floor. "Um, no - I wasn't s-sure one hundred percent and then my mom came to visit and she asked me what was wrong and I told HER and she got mad at me for not saying something so..." she trailed off and continued to stare a hole through the floor.

Coming around the desk Shiloh resisted the urge to shake the woman. "All right, well...come on, let's go have a talk with..." She stopped talking then and stood in the doorway, thinking; would anyone ELSE not have the sense to say something if they were being followed or suspected they were being followed? Vegas was sort of an...interesting city when it came to stuff like this, and if any of the employees were engaging in less-than-legal activities outside of their work schedule then they likely wouldn't say anything or own up to anything if they were asked. It was also generally understood that so long as it didn't interfere with their job or endanger the workplace then there wasn't a reason to bring it to light anyway.

God damn, she hated this city...

"...talk with...who?" Julia asked into the pause.

Shiloh shook her head. "Depends on who wants to talk or has anything to share. Come on."

Yuri was heading down the hallway with a mug of coffee; Shiloh took it with only a jerk of her head back toward the stairs and he fell in behind her as usual with hardly a glance at Julia (though the woman seemed ready to sink through the floor or claw her way through a wall).

As she expected she didn't gain anything useful from her chats with the club employees; nearly all of them claimed they didn't usually pay enough attention to their surroundings to notice if someone was tailing them while the others were definitely guarded in their responses but gave essentially the same answer: no one else seemed aware of or willing to admit they were being followed by anyone, least of all someone who matched Julia's provided description.

In the end she'd made it a point to tell them all to walk in pairs or get one of the guards to walk with them if they didn't feel comfortable walking on their own, then had led the way upstairs toward Alexei's room - maybe she could catch Alexei for a moment and mention this to him.

"...you didn't notice anyone that would fit the limited description we got, did you?" Shiloh asked on the elevator ride up to the top floor. 

Yuri shook his head. "No. Noticed nothing suspicious."

"Well, start looking for anything suspicious because so far as I'm concerned you're walking her home until we figure out what the deal is. And you-" she let her attention move from Yuri to Julia - the girl had been silent and visibly uncomfortable during their rounds downstairs and she shrank back under Shiloh's gaze. "-if you see whoever it is you think is following you point him out to Yuri, we need to know the 'who' and 'why.'"

"Yes ma'am."

A dark suit, glasses...that could be nearly anyone on the street... Not for the first time that day the urge to crawl back into bed hit her, followed by the desire to hit the door running and just disappear back into the wilds again and THAT was immediately followed by a gut punch of guilt that brought on a faint feeling of nausea. 

Before all this started sure, she'd wanted to run off and spend a few days in the middle of nowhere, but...hadn't, even though she'd purposely planned and bargained to have that sort of freedom when she took this job. There either wasn't time (what with having to run back and forth for mail drops and other miscellaneous odd jobs) or she simply couldn't muster the urge to just _go_...'she was home, why leave again?' seemed to be the argument she was always having with herself. She was home, she was back with family, and she had responsibilities to keep up with...even thinking about running off SHOULD make her feel guilty, right?

With Yuri and Julia both standing a respectful distance behind her Shiloh very carefully opened the door to Alexei's quarters and slowly stuck her head in; she could hear him talking to someone in low tones and once her head was in far enough she could see him at his desk speaking into an old yet somehow still functional telephone. He did little more than glance up at her at first, and when she raised an eyebrow at him questioningly he very slightly shook his head and she backed out of the room and silently closed the door.

"All right, he's busy at the moment...Julia, head back downstairs and go about your day like nothing's wrong. Yuri, uh...you go downstairs too, keep an eye on people coming and going - if you see anyone that looks out of place keep an eye on them."

Yuri frowned. "And you?"

"I have a guest to check on and eventually I'll get in there to talk to Alexei about all this," Shiloh sighed. "I'll be up here on this floor if you need me."

Yuri nodded and turned on a heel, taking several long strides down the hallway before pausing to look back at Julia expectantly; she quickly hurried along to walk at his side, hands fidgeting with the fabric at her waist and generally looking ready to disappear into the floor.

Shiloh shook her head as she watched the two leave - if it was true that those two fancied one another they would make one heck of an odd couple.

It was a strange feeling to knock on the door to one's own room but she figured Spy was at least owed that; she didn't wait for him to answer but gave him a few seconds after the knock before she entered, finding him sitting in the same chair as last night reading the day's paper.

"You're welcome to go sit down in the club, you know," Shiloh said as she entered with a bit of a smile.

Spy's gaze flicked toward her for the briefest instant over the top of the paper before returning to what he was reading. "I am aware, but I am also in no mood for the general populace." After a pause she heard a soft exhalation of breath and he looked up at her again, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he smiled thinly behind the paper. "I am not exactly prepared for casual social interaction anyway."

"At the very least let me know if you need something. Breakfast was sent up for you, right?" She couldn't honestly remember if she'd only thought she'd told Lavender to send something up or if she'd actually followed through on it...

He nodded and the paper lowered enough that she could see his face from the chin up. "Yes, thank you."

All right, she'd actually managed to get that taken care of, good on her. "Just checking."

"Is something amiss?"

"When isn't there?" she asked dryly. Her attention went between him and the other empty chair in the room, then moved to her bed - it had been neatly made, no sign that anyone had been in it recently. After only a moment of hesitation she moved to sit on its edge, then let herself fall backward with her legs hanging off and her feet still flat on the floor; there was a very faint hint of cologne that wafted up from the comforter.

Spy calmly folded the paper and let it drop to the little table between the chairs. "It was a serious question, Miss MacKenna."

"And I gave you a serious answer," she muttered, staring up at the ceiling. "Life was so much more simple when I was a drifter..."

Spy chuckled softly and stood. "I imagine it was also a lot lonelier, dirtier, and leaner...I do thank you, however, for last night's quiet company and for giving up your bed."

"You're welcome, and don't worry about the bed thing - I just took your room for the night."

"Yes, I am aware...regardless, you have my thanks for being a gracious hostess, even if I was a poor guest."

She didn't know exactly how to respond to that so she simply shrugged; with a silent nod Spy slipped from the room and Shiloh found herself counting the little fan-patterns pressed into the plaster of the ceiling. As much as she didn't want to she probably SHOULD get an hour or two of sleep while she could...there was no telling how long Alexei would be before he was off that call or how long before he got to Spy, and she didn't have anything immediately pressing (she trusted Yuri better than herself to note anything out of the ordinary downstairs, after all).

Though a thought occurred to her...

With a grunt she partly rolled, partly pushed herself off the bed and, with only a small stumble, made her way to the door and tugged it open; Spy was just disappearing through the door of the room that was for his use.

"Spy?"

"Hmm?" He stopped in the doorway and looked back at her from over a shoulder.

"When you're done talking to Alexei, do me a favor and let me know?"

"Of course. Enjoy your rest, Miss MacKenna."

\--------------------------------------------------------

If he actually had something to occupy himself with Sniper imagined he wouldn't be revisiting his last little chat with Shiloh so often as he was lately.

Spy was gone, that much was for certain; Sniper had enlisted the assistance of the rest of the team to search every nook and cranny of the base and the Frenchman was nowhere to be found. The best he could figure is Spy somehow tagged along with Shiloh and Scout as the only other vehicles on base were all present and he couldn't see the Frenchman walking several miles in the desert heat to reach the highway just to hitchhike.

That Spy had left wasn't so important as _why_ he had left, and that fact kept circling around in Sniper's head alongside Shiloh's expressed concern that something bad was going to happen.

...what was it with that woman and attracting trouble?

The thought brought a ghost of a smile to his face as he sat in the oppressive heat and silence of his little "nest" in a room at the base's tallest point (he'd boarded up the windows as much out of safety as to keep the damn sun and heat out) but the smile persisted only for a moment; caring about someone who attracted trouble on a regular basis meant most concerns were probably legitimate, and if the person in question was worried then he should definitely be worried.

Had Spy left because he'd pieced together something out of what Shiloh had told him after asking to speak to her privately? It was highly likely...so the question was, what HAD she told him, what had he put together, and how worried should Sniper be?

He found his gaze dropping lower, going from the horizon down to the roof of his camper - how long of a drive was it from here to Vegas? As Shiloh had so _helpfully_ pointed out he really was too far away to be of any help to her if she needed it...but if he were closer...

Spy had left and so far there didn't seem to be any repercussions...what if Sniper left too?

The thought brought a bit of a chill to him - he'd never run out on a contract before and he'd be abandoning his teammates here if he left; Spy at least could explain away his absence by...well, he might well have legitimately left to follow Scout to Boston (there was a history between Spy and the man's mother, after all). Sniper would only have a hunch to explain himself with - a hunch and a heap of concern, and in addition to that the thought of abandoning his team didn't sit well with him.

But they were trained killers, mercenaries, they could handle themselves...Shiloh was something completely different - equal parts reckless and brave, but ultimately out of her depth.

So what...should he be doing, then...

He stood up and swept his hat off his head, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of a hand as he stomped his way toward the ladder that was the only real way out of his boarded up nest; as usual he didn't even bother with the rungs going down, just locking his feet on the outer edge of the ladder and sliding down with his hands keeping him steady, hitting the ground with a thud and a grunt and jogging toward the main building of the base and cramming his hat back onto his head.

A few miles down the highway was a pay phone but rather than continuing through the base and out to the camper as he'd done hundreds of times before Sniper found himself pausing outside of the little office room that held the sole phone installed in the base - it was there for their use (and for Pauling to contact them) but Sniper didn't care for the idea that someone could listen in on his regular phone calls to his parents so he normally made the drive out to the pay phone...but this time he paused and stared at the door. The pay phone wasn't that far away but the need to make a call was pressing, almost anxiety-inducing.

'Just this one time.'

The doorknob was hard to turn and the door squeaked on its hinges but the office was well-lit, if a bit dusty - usually no one stepped foot in here except to use or answer the phone - and as he dropped into the chair at the desk he carefully dialed the number she'd given him weeks ago.

After two rings a light, chipper little voice answered, "Madam Zoya's, this is Lavender - how may I brighten your day?"

"...I need to speak to Shiloh - MacKenna," he added after a pause. "Let her know it's Mundy, she'll know who I am."

"One moment, sir."

The chipper voice was replaced with chintzy hold music that grated on the ears; hardly a minute had gone by before the music abruptly stopped and a man's voice with a thick Russian accent began speaking.

"She is sleeping. I will deliver message."

"...right. Just let her know I called. She ought to know how to reach me."

"She does."

And with that the line went dead.

He dropped the phone back onto its cradle and leaned back in the chair, frowning - at this point he wasn't certain what he'd been expecting, but at the very least he'd been hoping to at least talk to her.

His watch showed it was creeping up on eleven thirty...what in the world was she doing sleeping at this time of day? Shiloh was an early riser, same as him... Standing with a grunt he brushed the dust off his pants and stomped from the room, slamming the door behind him.

How long of a drive was it from here to Vegas?

\---------------------------------------------

"I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me."

The giant of a man sitting on the opposite side of the desk smiled thinly. "If anyone but her had asked, I would have refused." 

Spy nodded, not bothering to return the smile. "I shall get right to the point, then - Miss MacKenna tells me you knew of the attack in Boston before Miss Pauling informed her and asked her to pass along the news. I am interested in how you knew, as well as interested in any details you'd care to share about the other two attacks - I do not believe I need be specific?"

Alexei let out a little huff of air through his nose followed by a twitch that flared his right nostril but otherwise left the rest of his face motionless. "Knew of them, yes - word travels quickly of organized hits among this world."

"Allies of yours, then."

"Just because they have not raised hand against me does not make them allies," Alexei replied dryly. "Think - intelligent man such as yourself should be able to guess at the association."

Spy was silent a moment, then raised an eyebrow. "Is it the same association that exists between you and I?"

The giant Russian nodded, propping his elbows on the arms of his chair and pressing the tips of his fingers together just beneath his chin. "Da. The woman's reach is further than you think - further than I suspect. It is the common thread between the three we know of."

Spy sat up a bit straighter. "...that you know of. Do I take that to mean this is the only association you know between the three, or is there something more? Do you suspect there have been targeted attacks that have not come to light yet?"

"Is not hard to suspect. When others go silent they are either hiding, or dead - there is not middle ground to consider."

"How many have gone silent?"

"Word has reached of four more, death not confirmed but may well have disappeared off face of planet."

With a quiet, thoughtful hum in the back of his throat Spy relaxed back into his seat. "And all of them connected to our dear Administrator, I presume."

"Da."

"Tell me...do you know who it was that owned the bank in Boston? Truly owned it."

Alexei shrugged, the material of his shirt squeaking against the leather of the chair. "Truly? No. Masks and fake fronts are easy to create, numerous, difficult to trace. I can share that the ones that supposedly owned it were known for exotic animal trade, drugs...but not of the nature you are thinking."

Again the man went silent, leaving Spy to both digest what he was being told and also wonder what the man was playing at - he was being open with his details but only if prompted...what did he want from the Frenchman? "Yet another front to hide their true business practices?"

Alexei chuckled, a deep sound that hung in the air between them as the man eyed the ceiling for a few breaths. "Medicinal - pharmaceuticals. Animals were exotic, yes, but not living - or in one piece. Such is my knowledge of their activities...my mother did not deal with them, and I have no interest in their bits and chemicals."

Pharmaceuticals and butchered animals...which, the latter could also be medicinal in nature depending on the animal and the beliefs of the culture those parts were being sold in. 

"What reason would anyone have to kill all within that bank?" Spy went on. "My knowledge of the matter is limited to what Miss MacKenna has told me and that is admittedly spotty..." After a breath he pitched his voice lower. "I do know however that an innocent woman lost her life in that attack...were all bystanders taken in the same sweep?"

Something that could have been a glimmer of sympathy appeared and disappeared just as quickly on the giant's face; Alexei inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, then offered another shrug. "The why, that is good question...one I do not have answer for. In the others we know, everyone within the grounds were killed - man, woman, child, family or not. Same deal with bank, so far as am aware - however, was small bit of information given me that was not included in newspapers."

Another long pause and Spy felt something clench in his stomach. "...well?" he prompted.

Alexei raised a hand, his pointed extended toward the ceiling, and made a little twirling motion with it as though he were stirring the air. "Men, women, they were near exits but did not leave. Gunned down in doorways, near windows. As though tried to flee but could not. Is a strange detail, yes?"

Spy dug fingers into the chair beneath him and tried to not to picture a certain woman dead in a doorway. "Were they open? Broken? Blocked? Were there signs that the victims at least attempted escape?"

"Niet. For a bank that had everyone within shot to pieces, all things were intact. Not a single hole in glass, wall, or door."

"...were bullets found in the victims? Casings at the scene?" How could a shoot out have left all windows intact, no bullet holes in the walls? The odds of that happening were...absurdly slim for the windows, and seemingly impossible for the rest of it - bullets that were not stopped within a body would leave SOME sign of their impact.

"Typical bullet, signs of scorching. No casings, but money taken and recordings destroyed. No one left alive to identify attackers and no sign of their arrival save for carnage left behind...this is same for the Bertucins, and for Wellers."

After a few breaths Spy managed to loosen his grip on the chair beneath him, instead drumming the fingers of his left hand against the arm; his right hand at first inched for his cigarette case then fell motionless to the arm as well - his mind marked out the name 'Wellers' as something to keep in mind when he conducted his own research into this mess. "It sounds as though something prevented their escape...as well as prevented damage, in some capacity."

Alexei shrugged again. "Think as you will. Is this all?"

"Unless you have anything else to share."

For a moment the Russian said nothing, still sitting with his fingers just beneath his chin and his elbows propped on the arm's of his chair...and then he sat up abruptly, moving with a suddenness that belied his size. His expression changed from the neutral, emotionless and aloof politeness to one of total seriousness, brows furrowed and a deep frown etched across his features - Spy had the immediate feeling of a very angry mountain staring him down, ready to crush him underneath its weight.

"There is matter of payment for what I have shared," the man said, voice deep and growling.

This wasn't wholly unexpected but Spy had at least not expected the man to change with the ease of flipping a switch. "I am open to negotiation, yes."

Alexei sharply shook his head. "There is no negotiation - there is one method of repayment, and you will agree."

Spy raised an eyebrow - the hand that had been going for his cigarette case only moments before was now tensed and ready to go for his cloaking device. "And if I refuse?"

"There will not be place on Earth you could go that I would not find you."

Projecting an outward calm that he didn't quite feel Spy motioned with a hand in a 'go on' sort of gesture.

"I have shared what I know. In return, should those responsible come for me and mine...you will do everything in your power to get my children out. Understand?"

For a moment the surprise actually showed on the Frenchman's face. "...assuming I am forewarned and in a position to do anything...children?" He knew Shiloh had stated that Alexei was an adoptive father so there was at least one person he knew the man could be referring to but Shiloh herself hadn't mentioned any adoptive siblings.

Alexei stood and with a few thunderous strides was halfway across the room and heading for a door that led to what Spy remembered as being the bedroom area of these quarters. "He will make himself known when time comes." He wrenched the door open, then turned to fix Spy with a pointed stare. "You will uphold this, or should I survive and they do not...you would not like that arrangement, I am thinking."

Spy rose to his feet, hands smoothing down his tie as he regarded the man. "Should I be in a position to do anything rest assured that I shall - knowing who I am expected to protect, however, would assist in making certain I am capable of repaying my debt."

Alexei sniffed, then smiled...then disappeared into the other room, the door shutting behind him and Spy considering himself officially dismissed from the man's presence.

For a few moments Spy stood and contemplated the closed door; it would seem Shiloh had a sibling and she didn't seem aware of this fact...should he mention it to her? It did not really seem his place - after all, if it was something she was meant to know, surely her own father would have told her by now?

Well, he supposed he would consider it, and Alexei had certainly given him a lot to consider.

Oh, and speaking of Shiloh...

When he knocked on her door it took her a moment to answer and when she did she looked like she'd given in and taken a nap. He offered her a polite smile. "I have concluded my business with your father - I would warn you that he seems a bit...on edge, but you did ask to be notified when we were done speaking."

"Yes, thank you," she murmured, rubbing at an eye with the heel of her palm. "I'll - on edge? - I'll give him a moment then go in, thanks."

He nodded and turned to backtrack up the hall toward his borrowed room. "You are welcome...and, I believe I shall be taking my leave in the morning. Thank you for your hospitality."

Shiloh made a noise of acknowledgement and disappeared back into her room; once within his own room Spy called down to the front desk to inquire about booking a plane ticket and arranging for a cab to be there the following morning.

There was a part of him that wanted to depart immediately but, well...Alexei had given him a lot to consider, and he wanted time to think through it all before traveling east.


	5. Chapter 5

"You sure about this? I mean, you're sending us in anyway-"

"-and as I have explained before I do not trust you buffoons to not accidentally kill your target - and do not argue with me over the extent of your training and discipline. I have spent years watching you, I have observed the chaos of a gunfight and I'm well aware of how unpredictable such factors as ricochet can be. You are to be in and out with your target in hand, THAT is your priority and I will not hear another word on it."

"Fine, whatever."

"I believe you mean, 'yes ma'am.'"

"Fine, yes ma'am. When are we getting to that part anyway?"

"Once we have our answer."

"...are you really expecting him to go along with this?"

"My woefully optimistic answer is 'if he hates her enough, then yes.' My brutally honest expectation however is he will not...it is unfortunate, that situation with Mr. Zane...and also a touch ironic as it is Mr. Zane's knowledge that I am after when it is his actions that have undone my attempts to easily get my hands on it. If only I had reached out to him sooner...but I have paid the price for my curiosity and now do not have the time or luxury to remain out of notice."

"Would you even have contacted him if that stupid Spy hadn't blown it?"

"Yes and no...but what's done is done, and while I'm sorely disappointed that my most effective piece has been removed from the board this early the important thing is I did have a backup plan in place - this is why it is vitally important that you and the boys get inside with the scanners to give me an idea of what we're dealing with. I already know that he is withdrawing and harrying Mann Co. less and less...I am extremely interested to know why before we move forward."

"And when we get all that done, THEN we go after the others?"

"Yes yes, you'll get your shot at them. I do very much hope you are as talented as your price tag suggested, especially considering the allowances I have made."

"WHAT price tag?! You've got us by the balls!"

"I would think your lives is price enough, now kindly quit wasting my time - you've a job to do."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Her bedroom was filled with little ambient sounds that she'd never noticed before because it was rare that she was in here for something other than to change clothing or sleep - since moving back to the city she really hadn't gotten to sit in silence and try to remove herself from...well, herself, for a bit. It was a sort of inner quiet that she fell into when she'd been out in the middle of nowhere, on long dark nights when the moon wasn't out; there wasn't anywhere in the world that was totally silent and if she went mentally blank and just sat for a bit she could pick up on all the tiny sounds that would have otherwise been filtered out.

So here she sat, with her elbows propped on the desk and her head supported by her hands, and she could hear herself breathing; she could hear her heart beating in her ears and could pick out the strains of the band in the main room - mainly the percussive and tinny trumpet lines that leaked in through the...sounded like the air vent in the floor - it was echoing up from there. There were footsteps outside the door, passing but not stopping, the very muted sound (more a vibration than a true sound, she thought) of the main doors opening downstairs and closing as patrons came and went. Sometimes she could pick out voices as the girls at the main desk called out to people - most likely announcing when tables were ready to be seated - and for a very brief moment she heard the raised voice of someone angry.

It was all so much background noise and a very small part of her conscious mind was registering it, identifying it all and filing it away without much fanfare as the bulk of her concentration was focused elsewhere.

He'd called to check on her...she hadn't honestly been expecting that. She wasn't sure how to feel about it either, even as she'd dialed her return call.

It had started out an innocent enough conversation - Mundy had started by asking who it was that had taken his message (it'd been Yuri, who had immediately told Shiloh when she'd dragged herself out of her nap later) then had inquired about how things were going.

She'd told him Spy had left and about the man following Julia...then there wasn't much else to tell him so she'd switched gears and asked how things were doing over on base. He'd confirmed that things were still slow, that they were slowly going insane from all the waiting - she'd expressed sympathy with that, and with some discomfort had asked if it made her a bad person to wish for something to happen just to remove the ungodly anxiety and worry that came with knowing something bad was on its way but not knowing when it would strike.

Mundy assured her it didn't make her a bad person, then-

-had brought the conversation to a screeching halt with five words.

"Do you want me there?"

In some manner she should have expected something along those lines - after she'd told him about her worries he'd told her to call if she needed it.

But here he'd said 'want' and not 'need' and there was a rather huge difference in meaning.

If he'd said need she could have said no without hesitating; she didn't need him here...not really. There were never fewer than twenty armed men in the club, there was Vegas police just a call or button press away, and where the Madam had been feared Alexei was respected - it wasn't hard to imagine some kind of help coming from their neighbors if something really bad broke out. One lone sniper, no matter how good, wouldn't tip the odds in either direction so no, she didn't "need" him here.

But "want," on the other hand...

As she'd already mentally gone over it wasn't a question of protection; Yuri was never far from her and she'd been training with him once or twice a week in small arms and hand to hand defense - if someone came after her and was close enough she was finally at a level where she felt she could hold her own without relying on luck, and if she couldn't hold her ground then she had the feeling Yuri would destroy anyone who so much as shot her a dirty look.

But, with Yuri he was...well, he wasn't a friend, he was a guardian. He deflected attempts at small talk and beyond pushing the few buttons she'd found in an attempt to get even the tiniest reaction she'd basically given up trying to coax anything resembling friendship out of him - he took his job stupidly seriously and if he ever 'shut off' the persona of "deadly personal body guard" she'd never seen it - he was in her presence near-constantly and yet he was as distant as the damn sun.

Alexei of course always made time for her but while he wasn't distant she got the feeling that there were things about him he was hell-bent on keeping private, and he seemed to have a limit as to how much socializing he would (or maybe even could) endure. She enjoyed every moment she spent with him but after a while he went silent and eventually would retreat into his room even though she'd be content to just sit in the same room as him with his silent company.

She was surrounded by security, by people...but...she had to admit.

It was really damn lonely here.

And she hated constant noise of the city. And the throngs of people that never stopped coming. She hated being surrounded by buildings and unable to see the sky through the signs and the lights.

For someone who had spent the majority of her life on her own she was starting to realize that (at least at this moment) she would really, really like to have a friend nearby. Maybe it would make this city bearable, maybe it would relieve some of the stress from knowing there was some nebulous danger waiting to strike.

'I do want you here.'

But she hadn't gotten to say it; a blaring alarm had broken up the uncomfortably long silence as she'd tried to work up the nerve to say 'yes' and to explain why - Mundy had swore quietly and muttered 'robots' before she'd told him to be careful and they'd hung up.

And then in the moments that followed, on top of everything else, she'd felt an insane sense of jealousy.

HE was getting to do something.

So she'd come up to her room, had taken a seat at her desk, and had gone quiet; it wasn't too hard to tell herself what not to think about, and there was a lot she wasn't wanting to dwell on...

But after some unknown amount of time had passed she found herself pushing away from the desk and standing.

"...yes, Mundy, I do want you here...because I just got a really stupid idea."

\------------------------------------------------------------

_As Spy was getting into the cab the dark-haired man that was usually shadowing Miss MacKenna had stepped through the front doors and begun walking right toward him._

_It was very early in the morning - were there not a near-constant barrage of lights one might be able to tell the sun was just beginning to rise - and Spy paused with a hand resting on the top of the cab's rear door frame, watching the male approach. He had not expected anyone to see him off, so this must be for something...else._

_The man stepped close and out of one of the pockets on his vest pulled out a tan-colored envelope that smelled faintly of tobacco; without fanfare he offered it to the Frenchman, but as Spy went to take it he tightened his fingers on the paper and leaned in._

_"My father wishes you luck."_

_Spy raised an eyebrow at that - it would seem this young man was the other (or, merely another) child Alexei had mentioned. He glanced from the paper - still held in a tight grip by the other, their fingers separated by barely an inch of space - to the man; he certainly didn't look like someone who would need protecting and if Spy wasn't mistaken he was Shiloh's personal guardian here..._

_But, an agreement was an agreement. Spy nodded and the man let go, turning to stride back into the club without a further word._

_Inside the cab Spy opened the envelope to find a slip of paper with an elaborate wax seal on it and several lines in Russian, written in a rather delicate hand. As he scanned the words he could pick out a few of them here and there that he recognized and then counted himself lucky that Alexei hadn't chosen to write it in cursive; cursive Russian written without care could be an abysmal mess to decipher, though even with this printed and plain text he still couldn't read all of the message - he was far more practiced at verbal Russian than written._

_He supposed his first stop in Boston would be to a bookstore to see if they happened to sell dictionaries._

\-------------------------------------------------------------

"Come on, Victor - what better way to test the new set up than a trial by fire?"

"While I am glad you are confident in my abilities I certainly do not share you enthusiasm," came the robot's response, echoing from both the large body standing beside Engineer and also from the remote he had clipped to his belt.

The Texan chuckled a bit. "You'll do fine, I trust you."

The alarm's sudden blaring had actually startled the Engineer this time; it'd been weeks since they'd heard it and had needed to scramble - they had their orders and their location, with an estimated hour before the lumbering, robot-toting tank reached its destination. To get there before it did the mercs would need to ah...speed. Quite a bit. Engineer hoped Miss Pauling had kept up on bribing the local law enforcement.

They had split into two trucks to carry themselves and their weapons and ammo; Victor sat in the passenger seat, the others still not entirely comfortable around the metal man to allow him - it - to ride in the back.

"Just don't be afraid to disengage if you need to," Engineer said into the pause. "If you feel something failing or can't keep up just switch the sentry back to Automatic and get out of there."

"I am not worried about keeping track of processes, I am more concerned about my overall ability to function in a live combat situation where I am technically the aggressor." The robot turned its head to blink its eyes at Engineer. "Forgive me, sir, but you do sometimes seem forgetful of the fact that I am programmed to be a Medic. My role is not meant to be aggressive."

Engineer held up a finger to the bot. "Programmed originally, yes. But you can learn and adapt, and I think you'll adapt to this just fine. You're still preventing harm if you're taking out the targets that'd cause it in the first place, and besides - we're a bit early but I've had a few ideas for some peripherals for my sentry and even my dispenser."

"Do tell, sir."

Engineer scratched his chin with a grin. "How'd you feel about integrating those syringes into the sentry? Switch between shooting holes in an enemy to popping a teammate with a quick pick me up... Same deal with the dispenser - spit out ammo or a first aid assist depending on what's needed."

Victor was silent a moment, then turned its head to face forward. "I think I would find that role satisfactory, being as I have not yet been given a Medigun to complete my functionality."

"Yeah, our Medics find it a...I guess you'd say they find the idea of you helping to be a bit insulting."

"Yes, I understand."

They rode the rest of the way in silence, reaching their destination in record time and then hurrying to set up what defenses they could in the remaining minutes before the tank became visible on the horizon.

...but looking at that tank, even at this distance...Engineer couldn't help but feel that this one seemed...larger than usual.

It got closer and he saw that yes, it was definitely larger than normal. And it stopped further out than it usually would and began to offload its cargo of robots.

They were almost exclusively Uberbots of various types, and had a -

-yeah, that wasn't a "small" army by any means: Demobots and Soldierbots were swarming around the Uberbots as they began their approach...it was like looking at a kicked hornets nest - one huge mess of deadly movement.

Engineer licked his lips. "That's...that's quite a few more than we were told to expect."

"That is hardly encouraging to hear on the eve of my 'trial by fire,' sir," came Victor's disembodied voice, the head of Engineer's sentry swiveling around as the robot took control.


	6. Chapter 6

_They will know you because they know me, and know better._

The words were simple and were written above the pressed wax seal; beneath that seal were two more lines of text - an address - and Spy had already committed it to memory even as he carefully folded the paper and slid it back into its envelope. Ordinarily he would have carefully cut the seal free and then burned the message once memorized but he wasn't certain the seal would be seen as genuine if it was not accompanied by the writing, and even still he wasn't certain on how he would proceed with this message and the address - was he expected to actually find something there, or was Alexei counting on someone to be watching this location?

Well...in a way it didn't matter he supposed - he would either find something or he wouldn't, and at the very least it was a starting point for his own investigation.

The wind was chilly today, or maybe the Frenchman had just become too accustomed to the hot and dry desert weather; it was a good excuse to wear a heavier coat and a scarf, items of clothing that rarely saw the light of day. For this small errand at least he could move about with only minimal adjustments with his disguise kit - it was as close as he could come to walking about "bare faced" - and the coat had more pockets with the bonus of more bulk to hide his tools of trade, and while few would consider a scarf to be a tool of any sort...he'd surprised more than a few in the past.

He stood outside of a cemetery leaning casually on the wrought iron fencing that surrounded it; inside and well within sight was a solitary young man sitting in the grass beside the mounded dirt of a fresh grave, seemingly oblivious to the world around him and especially of the man watching him. Were the circumstances different Spy would not have hesitated to remind Scout to always have a watchful eye on his surroundings but he knew that people tended to grieve in their own ways and if shutting out the world helped the boy cope then he could allow him a few more minutes to wallow in it before he approached.

Then, he was walking up behind the younger man, reaching into his coat to first turn off his disguise then pull out a single rose and let it drop lightly onto the dirt mound; Scout looked up and very briefly Spy was able to see the dull eyed, almost dazed look that quickly sharpened to one of recognition, then anger.

"What the hell-"

"Before you level another outburst at me," Spy interrupted, tone mild, "I did say I would not come near your family. And I have not. I will not linger to pay my respects at this moment either, however..."

Scout was climbing to his feet as Spy held up the envelope with Alexei's seal and words within it, his eyes drawn to the paper before moving back to meet Spy's.

"Might I interest you in a bit of vengeance?" Spy asked calmly, lightly waving the envelope almost under Scout's nose.

Scout's gaze again moved to the envelope and when he went to take it Spy allowed it; he watched as the other opened the envelope and eyed the Russian script and the seal.

"Is this some kind of joke? What the hell does this even mean?"

"That is up to us to discover - if you are finished here," Spy added after a pause. He spared the rose a single glance then began to retrace his steps. After a few moments he heard Scout's footsteps following along behind him.

"What're we doing?"

The edge of his scarf had come untucked from his collar when he had reached in to remove the rose from an inner pocket; Spy carefully tucked it back into place and did not answer until they both stood under the iron archway of the gate. "We are going on a bit of a drive...but first, you need to be properly attired," he replied, eying Scout's clothing.

It was actually surprising to see that Scout owned something that resembled formal clothing even if it was just pants - the shirt looked a tad too large, as though he had borrowed it from one of his brothers (and it was also wrinkled in a manner that suggested it had been slept in). From a distance it would be passable but up close it looked sloppy, unprofessional...unacceptable, really.

Scout was coming out of his mourning and a bit of his fire seemed to be returning as he blew out a huff of indignation at Spy's assessing look. "I'm not doing a damn thing with you unless you tell me what we're doing - and what do you mean properly attired? Look at this crap - you think I want to go anywhere dressed like this?" He gestured down at himself with another loud huff.

"Well, you are partly right in that you aren't going anywhere dressed like that, at least not with me," Spy replied dryly. "We will be attempting contact with...friends of a certain club owner, and you will be dressed the part or I simply will not take you with me."

Spy paused to let that sink in, watching Scout's brow furrow then his eyes widen slightly. "Wait, her dad knows who killed Ma?"

"No, but he has given me a starting point. Miss MacKenna's father is a respectable man and I imagine we may be expected by our contacts so lets not look the part of a hooligan when we meet with them, yes?"

\--------------------------------------------------------------

The moment he heard the doorknob rattle he let the newspaper fall to his desk and looked up, waiting patiently until Yuri stepped through the door and had it closed behind him.

"Do you have time to speak?" Yuri asked - in Russian, meaning Shiloh must not be with him now or planning to join them.

"I always have time speak if you ask for it," Alexei replied. He leveraged himself out of the desk chair and moved toward his armchair. "Come in, sit - be a son for once, rather than a guard."

"Thank you," Yuri said.

As Alexei settled into his armchair Yuri lowered himself onto the little couch; the giant watched as the rigidness to Yuri's posture slowly melted away as he let go of his body guard persona and let a small bit of 'Yuri' leak through - not entirely, as he was clearly agitated about something, but enough to recognize.

"What troubles you?"

"Did you know what she wants to do now?"

Alexei raised an eyebrow and smiled at that - "she" could only refer to one of two women, and of those only one tended to drive the young man insane. "Well, don't keep me in suspense."

Yuri sat up and perched on the edge of the couch cushion, pressing his hands together in front of him. "She seems to think acting as bait will draw out the stalker - two women walking down the street, rather than a woman and her escort."

"...and?"

Yuri glanced over at him. "And she wants to start this tonight."

Alexei chuckled at that. "Which is it you're angry about - that she wants to do it, or that she thought of it before you did?" That earned him a heavy frown which only made him chuckle more.

"I thought of it! But I wouldn't dare do it - it's my job to keep them safe, not put them in danger."

Alexei shook his head and shifted, sinking a bit deeper into the chair. "Are your lessons with her going well?"

"Well...yes."

"Then what is the problem?"

Yuri sighed and rubbed his face. "The problem is I don't like the idea. It may be quicker, yes, but only if the person following Julia around takes the bait. Were I him I would become suspicious if suddenly another woman began escorting my target around."

"But you are not this person," Alexei said, shaking a finger at him. "We have no idea who is doing this, no idea how smart this person may be - and clearly they aren't smart, or at least not well-informed, if they are stalking someone of ours."

"Poor life choices aside," Yuri grunted, "I don't like the risk and it may not even work."

"And walking her home has worked so far in finding this stalker, yes?"

The look shot at him was perfectly venomous, prompting another round of laughter. Finally Alexei sat up some, hands out in front of him in a placating gesture. "I understand your concerns, but I do find the idea to be worth at least trying. I am surprised this is not what you decided on in the first place."

"I think she enjoys this," Yuri muttered after a pause, folding his arms and slouching back against the couch.

"Who enjoys what? Julia for your company or Shiloh for finally cracking you?"

"It is not funny!"

That of course made it even funnier. "I warned you, take your job too seriously and people will begin testing your limits."

The man let out an exasperated sigh and went quiet; Alexei was pleased to see a bit more of his son coming through - inflicting Shiloh on him had been a good decision...the Madam had been the one to force him so readily into the guard archetype that actually seeing the man buried underneath was rare unless you had him alone and he was comfortable enough with you.

And speaking of being buried...

"You've reminded me of something, one moment."

Yuri twisted on the couch to watch him stand and walk back to his desk where he opened the top drawer and popped a false bottom free only to pry at a tiny spring-activated lever that opened the true false bottom compartment. Inside was a small black notebook, thinner than a pencil and about the size of a check book. He removed it and with a flick of his wrist sent it sailing toward Yuri, who caught it and held it as though he expected it to bite him.

"And this is?"

"In the event of my death this is what I need you to do - read through them, memorize them if you have to."

Yuri frowned heavily and flipped the cover open. "Then you believe whoever is targeting others will definitely come for us?"

Alexei lowered himself back into the armchair, smiling a bit as the man's frown faded to a slightly confused expression as he took his first look within the little notebook; its pages were full of Alexei's careful handwriting, of course, but in the middle was a small area carved into the paper, with a tiny wooden peg glued to the back flap and a key wedged onto it. Even from here he could see Yuri's eyes moving over the pages as he carefully turned them but he would read a few lines then pause to look at the key, then finally he looked back up to his father.

"I would prefer you not die."

Alexei snorted loudly at that. "It is not as though I am planning to die, but should it happen I want to be prepared - I may be no one's personal guard but I am still responsible for everyone within these walls, it is my duty to safeguard as best as I can...that might result in a bit more lead in my diet than is healthy but it is a reality I've had hanging over me for decades - from before we even came to this country, even."

"If you are truly worried about someone attacking us here then what do you plan to do? Why not close the club?" Yuri asked, closing the notebook and tucking it into one of the many pockets of his vest. "At the very least if few are here then an attack would cause minimal damage."

"I have thought about doing just that but the more I think about it the more it seems it would send the wrong message...we want our enemies to think us prepared and confident, so that they will pause to try and determine what the source of that confidence is. Giving the impression that we are fearful may provoke them into attacking before we are actually ready to meet their challenge, and even a reckless attack can overwhelm any opponent if it is fierce enough." Alexei paused a moment, sighing slowly, then held up three fingers. "Assess. Adjust. Adapt. This is how we must approach our situation before we commit to action - even in those times we appear to out-match our enemy. We may not now know who has us targeted, but even still, never base your tactical decisions on appearance alone."

A ghost of a smile crossed Yuri's face. "Advice from your boxing days?"

Alexei waved a hand dismissively. "My days in the ring, you could be permitted to make decisions on appearance of your opponent - it didn't mean you were correct, but the stakes there were much less deadly. No, this advice comes from years of standing by and watching the Madam work her poison - learned from my father, no less."

Yuri nodded and absently patted a hand against the notebook where its top stuck out of his pocket. "I see...I will strive to keep this lesson in mind." His fingers played along the top of the notebook, stopping to pick at the corner of the binding. "What if I die as well?"

"I would be most disappointed in you."

Yuri glanced at him sharply only to see him smiling; after a moment he smiled too, even if the joke was a bit dark. "...at the risk of appearing to question your judgement, may I ask something else?"

"Of course."

"Do you truly think that masked one is trustworthy?"

Alexei was silent a moment. "...No, because he too is an agent of Helen...that woman has her hands in everything and never for benevolent reasons. And also yes, because whoever started this made it personal for him - he may not be in this for our benefit but we can expect to benefit from his actions regardless."

"Do you really think he'd help if we were attacked?"

"No, but only because, as he said himself, he may be in no position to do anything...but of course, I could not let him think he was getting something for nothing!" Alexei laughed. "Let him think what he will, he'll serve a purpose or we'll all be dead in the end."

Yuri sniffed and rolled his eyes. "I wish I had your confidence, father."

"And I wish I had your youth but you do not see me complaining," Alexei replied dryly. He glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall near the door that led to his bedroom. "You will be late if you stay here much longer - I suggest you go downstairs and find your two women...and I also suggest you bite the bullet and either ask the little one to dinner or quit pining over her. If it is a question of "how" I'm certain I could explain it in plain enough terms."

"I am a grown man, old enough to decide when it is best to ask a woman to dinner."

"Really? Because it seems more to me that this grown man is using his job as a convenient excuse not to do that." Alexei used both hands to push himself out of his chair, coming over to lightly grab Yuri by the elbow and make a show of pulling the other to his feet. "And besides, you look like a schoolyard child making eyes at the object of your affections. Out - I am done with you."

Yuri sighed and shook Alexei's hand gently from his elbow, then smiled grimly when it moved to ruffle his hair. "Grown man, father..."

"Good night, good luck, get out," Alexei said lightly, with a smile.

Yuri shook his head and left, Alexei able to see the body guard personality coming back on as easily as someone flipping a switch as the man stepped through the door.

Once he heard the door click shut he went back to his armchair and lowered himself back into it; Yuri's repeated reminders that he was a grown man...well, even if there hadn't been an unknown danger waiting to strike it was probably the right time to pass on that notebook anyway - Alexei was old and only getting older and the aches and pains of a roughly treated body were getting more noticeable each year, made worse by the idiotic schedule he had to keep in order to keep 'business' in line.

If he had anyone but his two children that he could trust he would retire this year, move somewhere that actually had seasons, live out the rest of his days in a more comfortable home...but he knew Yuri, thanks to the Madam forcing him into the one role and one role only, was not suited to run the "family" business nor would he want to.

And Shiloh...

That would be a death sentence for her, both in spirit and physically. Alexei now regretted the fact that years ago, before she'd left, he'd never filled her in on exactly what the Madam was wrapped up in...at the time he believed it was for her own good but perhaps if he had she wouldn't have ever made the decision to work for Helen.

So, if he wouldn't condemn his children... There were others outside of the immediate family that would be somewhat suitable but in the years Alexei had known them he knew they were either too trusting to survive long or too distrustful to avoid alienating everyone around them...no matter his choices now he knew that once he was gone trouble would spread like ripples in a pond and that was assuming that this latest mess didn't kill them all anyway.

All he could truly hope to do was have enough in place to minimize the chaos that would follow his passing, whenever that may happen.

'What a poisonous legacy I leave behind.'

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been a long, drawn out fight that had left the - what the heck even was this building this time, an old hat factory? Mustache museum? Something equally as stupid - in a state best described as "technically still standing."

They were exhausted; no fights had ever gone on as long as this one had and that wasn't just a result of them being down two of their usual team - Graymann had sent an entire battalion of Uberbots at them along with an army of smaller bots made up entirely of Demobots and Soldierbots...they'd never had to deal with so many explosives coming at them at once before and the Medics had been run ragged trying to shield where conventional cover failed while also trying to keep everyone on their feet and in one piece.

Looking at the considerable damage to the building they weren't even sure they should call it a victory.

They were injured, in foul moods, and could barely keep their feet as they made their way back to base; though his mood wasn't what you'd call bright and cheerful Engineer tried not to let his exhaustion or his companion's moods bring his down, but one bonus to everyone being too grumpy and tired to speak was that Engineer was free to think on everything he'd observed during their fight without distraction.

Victor had tried to claim otherwise but the fact was having the Medicbot in control of his sentry had proven to be a sound decision - the sentry's programming was top of the line when it came to detecting and dispatching enemies but as Engineer had suspected Victor could perform those duties better: on its own the sentry could target and shoot but it wasn't sophisticated enough to "think" on what it was doing. 

A sentry couldn't see a Heavybot hesitating and wonder 'is it waiting for backup or serving as a decoy for something else?' It couldn't create priority targeting lists based on assessed threat coupled with positioning - the Soldierbot that could only hope to hit one person would be a lesser threat than a Demobot who could clearly see four of them even if the Soldierbot was the closer target, a distinction that the sentry's programming couldn't make. And a sentry wasn't capable of tactical decision making (such as selecting a bot to disable to cause a bottleneck) nor could it decide to stop its attack on one target to provide covering fire for a teammate while they reloaded.

Victor, on the other hand, could do that. Having the Medicbot in that thing was almost like having another teammate on the field - Victor wasn't mobile of course but that hardly seemed to matter when Engineer looked at the counter on the sentry's side to check confirmed kills.

...now, if it was mobile...that had some real fun potential, right there...

Regardless, on its own the sentry was a solid area-denial piece of defensive machinery...but give it the ability to think...

Victor's power had run out toward the end of the battle and there'd been about an hour or two without the bot guiding the sentry; Engineer had noticed the difference right away as the sentry reverted back to its standard programming - things were still being shot to pieces but not in an intelligent manner. 

It highlighted a list of problems to work through to perfect things for the next fight but it was something he could puzzle over after he'd gotten some rest...along with sorting through something else Engineer wasn't certain could be classified as a problem just yet: Victor had mentioned something about an anomalous signal that it had detected during the battle. Initially he was ready to chalk it up to Victor still able to pick up on signals that relayed orders to the other robots but the Medicbot had insisted this was a different type of signal...there hadn't been much time to discuss it as the robot had gone into stand by mode shortly thereafter, but hopefully Victor had thought to save a record of that signal for study.

For the first time since...he couldn't even remember, everyone went straight to their rooms when they'd returned to the base - no showers, no attempt at a meal, just everyone moving for their own quarters and their own beds (or in Victor's case, to his charging station in the workshop).

His brain wasn't racing so much that it could counteract the desperate need for rest and so Engineer fell asleep almost the moment his head hit the pillow - he didn't even try to fight it, there would be plenty of time tomorrow to analyze, plan, and scheme.

\----------------------------------------------

The address was for a tiny office building completely devoid of any sort of signage that had a crumbling, grass-choked parking lot that could hold maybe ten cars total, with the building's tan brick front moss-covered and dusty but in decent enough shape overall.

It had actually taken Spy an hour or so with a road map to determine that this was the correct address, and now he and Scout sat in their borrowed car a block or so away in the parking lot of a deli near a small strip mall; Scout hadn't said a word during the entire drive (no doubt still brooding over the fact Spy had forced him into properly fitting clothing - in this case a clean suit and shined shoes) and despite Spy's expectations the younger man hadn't demanded to know why they were still sitting here rather than investigating their target.

Truthfully Spy was debating how best to go about it - ordinarily he would have cloaked and made his way around the building to observe the outside first before risking an attempt at entry...but this time he technically had a "partner" to account for, so his usual stealth approach wouldn't be ideal. He supposed they could just walk up to the building from the rear (he had seen no doors or windows on the building's back side when they'd driven passed) and make a slow approach from the side...and providing they weren't shot by an unseen assailant Spy did have Alexei's seal to hopefully provide the right sort of identification if and when they went inside that building.

"We are going to take a rather forward approach," Spy then said into the silence. "We will walk from here, staying to the rear of the building. You are to look for anything out of place - any hint of eyes on us, security measures, anything that feels or appears off, even if it seems inconsequential."

"How am I supposed to know what to look for? I'm not the spy here."

Spy gave him a knowing look as he popped open the door and slid from the driver's seat. "You will learn. Get out and come on, and try to look confident."

"Look, I ain't-" Scout's voice momentarily cut out as the younger male got out and slammed the car door "-here to learn how to be you, all right? I'm not you, I don't want to BE you. I'm here to bash the skull in of whoever it was who killed Ma."

"And I assure you, you will get that chance - do not mistake me: I am not asking you to pretend to be me. In fact, I am certain an entire lifetime's worth of training could not elevate you to my level of skill," Spy added dryly. "But you do not have to be me to be on guard and alert for trouble - THAT is what I am asking you to do."

"Didn't sound like it."

Spy rolled his eyes and managed to suppress the sigh of annoyance rising, dropping his attention to his disguise kit to tweak his appearance for this little venture. "Scout, shut up and be alert for trouble. Is that direct enough for you?"

Scout glowered at him and shoved his hands into his pockets; Spy moved to walk in front of him, taking on a speed of 'casual stroll' as they left the deli's parking lot and traveled down the road toward the unmarked office building.

\---------------------------------------------

She had drawn the line at putting on a dress. 

In fact, she was pretty sure there wasn't a person in existence who had a chance in hell of convincing her to put one on (not that she owned any to begin with, but if she did...).

She'd changed into dressier shoes, ditched her jacket in favor of a blouse, and had put adornments in her hair...it was weird having to stop and think about how to blend in with a crowd on the streets of Vegas without dressing to the nines - rather than club-goer she had opted for something more of a business-style look, something that was still a common sight on the streets in the evenings but not something she would be hindered in.

Strangely, she did feel slightly...naked...without the two guns she'd had on her since coming back to the club, but that WOULD be something out of place on the streets so she'd had to leave those locked in her room. It was a weird feeling; she'd spent the better part of her life armed with only a knife (and the crossbow, technically) with guns having only become part of her routine within the last couple of years, and yet she found herself missing their presence hanging at her side.

...well, Yuri would have to be protection enough for all three of them, and that thought also rankled.

With a heavy sigh she'd stomped out of her room and down to the main floor, finding Julia waiting anxiously by the staff exit near the kitchen.

"Um, Yuri is going to be...?"

"He'll be following but not where we'll see him - hopefully your little stalker friend won't see him either," Shiloh added after a pause. "Just remember, if you even think you see this guy, say something."

\------------------------------------------------------

A raging headache and a full bladder woke Sniper up far earlier than he liked - he supposed habits were hard to break, even when dead tired - and as he was staggering through the hallway toward the bathroom he heard the phone in the little office ringing. 

With his head pounding and his bladder protesting he honestly debated ignoring it and continuing on his way but then he doubted anyone else would hear the damn thing going off. With a sigh that trailed off into a growl he shoved the door open and winced as the shrill ringing immediately made his headache worse, prompting him to make a snatch at the phone and then almost drop it before he'd fully gotten his fingers around it.

"Hello?"

"Sniper, it's Pauling. I know you boys just got back but the Administrator needs you to move out as fast as you can manage - only what you'd immediately need or can pack in ten minutes, everything else will be provided when you reach your destination. Pen and paper handy?"

About three minutes later, bladder empty and with a mug of coffee in hand, Sniper walked up and down the hallway banging on doors and passing along the news.

Once everyone was hurrying to get dressed and grab whatever they considered "essential" Sniper headed back out to his van and slid into the driver's seat, trying to swallow his coffee as quickly as the temperature would allow and let himself stare blankly out the windshield, focusing on nothing in particular to not aggravate the headache (and hopefully the coffee would help with that too). It wasn't often that they got told to pack up and rush off somewhere without any details on why they were going...all Pauling had done was given him a location followed by really emphasizing that they needed to get there immediately.

At least this time the news had been delivered by phone call and not an alarm-

-and that brought to mind the phone call that had preceded that last alarm. Shiloh had sounded all right, if a bit stressed, but he hadn't gotten an answer on whether he should head there.

With a grunt Sniper stuck his mug up on the dashboard and dug a battered map out of the glove box, tracing along the marked highways and squinting at the tiny print that marked out towns and national parks - Pauling's orders would put them on the very north western edge of New Mexico...while they'd been all over the damned state at this point Sniper couldn't recall going to that area specifically - he had no idea what might be there to explain why they needed to be there.

At least if he had to rush off that would technically put him closer to Vegas than where he was now, though he had a feeling now that he should have gone when he had the chance.

Any further musings were interrupted by the sound of the garage door wheeling open and the sound of their little transport van starting up; Sniper stuffed the map back into the glove box, got his mug off the dash and carefully stuck it between his knees, then started his camper and pulled out to follow the others.

\-----------------------------------------------------

"Sorry fellas, appointment-only and I don't have any down for the day."

Spy blinked the afterimages from his eyes as his sight adjusted to the light within the office building, his gaze falling on the petite blonde woman sitting behind a large gray metal desk in the middle of the room directly facing the door. She was wearing a periwinkle blue dress suit with shiny black buttons and a black flower-shaped brooch pinned to a lapel, and seemed utterly uninterested in the two men that had just walked into her building as she perused a gardening magazine.

Her accent at least suggested she was a local and Spy in turn spared her only a brief glance before he took in the rest of the room: thin carpet patterned with navy blue and gray diamonds, pale blue wallpaper with tiny white pin-striping, two air vents in the ceiling blowing out chilled air, a line of six chairs along the right wall, potted plants in every corner, and behind the woman at her desk was a heavy-looking door with a round silver knob and a keyhole, with a small table that held a coffee maker and a neat stack of small styrofoam cups sitting to the door's right - a standard appearance for an office waiting room, nothing seemed out of place aside from a conspicuous lack of a telephone.

But of course nothing here suggested at what went on here, either.

"Apologies, madam," Spy said, smiling as he approached. "I believe we may be expected after all."

He tugged the envelope free from his coat and pulled the paper bearing the wax seal out, stopping in front of the desk (the woman finally looked up at him) and gently sliding it into her view.

She glanced at it, nose wrinkling and mouth moving - she was apparently chewing gum - then glanced up at him. "Did you call?"

"No, madam."

"All right, well, he ain't here yet. Sit down, help yourself to coffee if you want."

Spy did not protest or even react as she picked up the paper with its seal and tucked it into the front of her dress suit; he turned to go sit, then abruptly changed his mind and helped himself to a cup of coffee. Scout was already slouched in a chair when he did finally go to sit down, placing an empty chair between the two of them.

They sat in silence in the chilly little room; Scout was doing the exact opposite of what Spy had asked he do, instead choosing to stare stonily at the wall across from him. The Frenchman sipped at his coffee and put on an air of casually looking around.

The plants were real but the pots were plastic made to look like terracotta, the desk didn't appear to be bolted to the floor or hiding any sort of wiring (odds of a security device hidden on it weren't impossible, but less likely), there was only a single wall outlet in the room and the coffee pot was plugged into one of its two sockets-

"-you read me? I want it DONE and I want it OUT-"

With those words preceding their speaker the door banged open and in came a man in a maroon suit with a gold tie and a gold link necklace - almost a choker, really - glinting garishly under the lights as he came stomping inside with three suited (and muscled) men stepping in behind him. Whatever he'd been saying he cut off as he caught sight of the two of them sitting in the room.

"Who're you? Darla, who're they?"

"Last-minute afternoon appointment, mister Grand," the woman at the desk answered, it coming out sounding more like 'mistah.' She rose from her chair and leaned across the desk, her hand slipping into her suit to pull the paper free and hold it out toward him.

Mr. Grand flared his nostrils, sniffed loudly, then moved over to snatch the paper from the woman with a grunt and looked it over; Spy could see the man's eyes widen after a moment, then he slapped the paper into the chest of one of his cronies and came a few steps closer.

"Not often I get callers from Mr. Russian Concussion - what's he needing? Guns? Broads? Gots lots of those, lots of drugs, what's he need?"

Spy carefully set his half-finished coffee onto the chair beside him. "While it is true Mr. Alexei sent me to you it was not for his own benefit - I am essentially here on my own business."

"Yeah? And what would that be?"

Spy shot Scout a warning look before turning his attention back to the other man; Mr. Grand was every bit the image of a hustler - he brought to mind a greasy car salesmen, if Spy was being honest - but Spy had to trust that Alexei had had good reason to send the Frenchman to him. "You are aware of the shooting in Boston recently, yes?"

"What - you - EY you don't bring that up, all right? Lost three cousins in that, what the flying hell do you know about it?"

Spy carefully smiled in a manner meant to be disarming. "Not much, which is why I was sent to you - Mr. Alexei was of the opinion that you were uniquely suited to assist me in investigating what happened there."

"Yeah, and? Who gives a crap? Gimme one good reason why I should?"

Spy spread his hands. "I do not ask for a favor, of course - I am willing to pay for any assistance rendered."

At the mention of money the man's eyes lit up and his outward annoyed appearance evaporated. "Hey now, you're speaking my language. Let's talk, boyos."

He jerked his head at the men behind him and one went to the door behind Darla's desk, pulling a key from a pocket and opening it. Mr. Grand made an 'after you' gesture; Spy stood and moved toward the door with a nod, Scout slowly following along with his hands stuffed into his pockets.

There was a single short hallway beyond the locked door with one closed door on the wall to the left and two to the right, with the hallway opening into a conference room complete with an oval table and ten chairs pushed in around it; on the left end of the table was a phone and pile of memo pads along with an assortment of visibly chewed on ink pens.

Mr. Grand dropped into the chair nearest the phone then lifted his legs to slam his feet haphazardly onto the pile of memo pads. "All right, whaddya' boys got for me?"

Spy moved over to one of the chairs near the man but did not sit down, instead splaying his fingers across the chair's back. "My request is rather simple: I desire any assistance you could offer in finding who orchestrated the shooting in Boston and why."

"That easy, huh?"

"Yes, that easy," Spy repeated, nodding as he spoke.

"All right, fair enough - what about the kid there? What's his angle?"

Spy turned to briefly glance at Scout. "One of those lost in the shooting was his mother-" 

Scout shot him a venomous look.

"-and he is interested in a bit of vengeance," Spy went on, turning his attention back to Grand, shifting to lean casually against the chair under his hand. "His angle, so to speak, is also a simple one."

"Yeah yeah, I'm picking up on it," Grand said, crossing his hands over his stomach and tilting his chair back to let him stare at the ceiling. "Righto, so you're both wanting someone's head...I can dig that, I get it, I'd like to know who did it too. Thing is, no one can figure out the how - don't know that there's enough of anything left hanging around to figure the why either. Not sure I want to devote the man power to running around, so you know what? I think I'll-"

He abruptly stopped speaking as the phone at his feet began ringing - it was absurdly loud and sudden, and Spy noted two of the three cronies had flinched at the noise - and Grand stared at the thing sourly.

"It figures. One second boys-" he sat up and slammed feet back to the floor as he snagged the phone "-yello'?"

Spy could hear the faintest little squeaking-like noise of someone speaking on the other end of the line; he watched as Grand's expression went from annoyed, to serious, back to annoyed, then it went guarded as he glanced back up at his 'guests.'

"Listen fellas, I gotta take this - 'spose you two stepped out a moment?"

Spy nodded; behind him Scout moved toward the door but the Frenchman paused and reached into a pocket to pull out a heavy, ornate fountain pen.

It was silver with a highly detailed Asian-style dragon curled around its top and tapering to the tip of its tail near the end of the pen that did the writing; Spy carefully twisted it to pop the pen-end out of its casing, then pointedly snagged one of the memo pads and flipped to a clean page and scribbled out a series of numbers.

Then underneath those numbers he wrote "a starting point" and turned the memo pad around and held it up to Grand; Spy could almost swear he saw little dollar signs light up behind the man's eyes. He nodded at that and reached a free hand up to yank the memo pad out of Spy's hands then gestured for Spy to step back into the hallway before dropping the memo pad back to the table.

Spy returned the nod and carefully sat the pen on top of the memo pad then moved into the hallway as directed; the three suited men followed him and by strategic crowding herded both Spy and Scout toward the front office area.

Right before stepping through the doorway Spy paused and turned to the men behind him. "You'll excuse me for having to ask, but do you have a restroom here? The coffee I drank earlier has gone straight through me."

For several moments the three men collectively glared at him, then with a nod from the one in the "back" of the group Spy found himself stepping between them toward one of the doors on the right side of the hallway; it opened into a sparse but clean bathroom and Spy carefully shut the door behind him and then listened at the doorway - there was no sound of the men beyond it walking away.

Not that surprising, honestly.

Spy stepped over to the toilet and unzipped his pants - if they were standing at the door they would probably be listening for sounds of him actually using the facilities, which was fine with the Frenchman as he did technically need to relieve himself even if he intended to multitask while doing so.

With one hand handling the business of bodily functions Spy brought his free hand up to his mouth and used his teeth to pull a cuff link free, carefully holding the little metal lump with his lips until he could pinch it between his fingers and use his teeth to carefully pry up a small switch on its back. A tinny sound began to emanate from the cuff link then; Spy quickly finished up and tucked everything back into place, then moved to the sink with the cuff link carefully held between his lips again. 

With water running in the sink Spy then used one hand to pull one side of his mask free from his collar while the other took the cuff link; he slipped fingers under the mask's edge then gently inserted the cufflink into his ear.

Grand's mechanical-sounding voice came through loud and somewhat clear (there was a bit of static interference and what sounded like a constant rustling of paper) and Spy checked his watch - the batteries in both the pen he'd left on the table and in the cuff link would last approximately ten minutes before one or the other would give out.

Hopefully that would be long enough to capture the majority of the phone call going on in the other room.

Spy tucked his mask back in and smoothed everything back down, then re-started his disguise kit and opened the bathroom door to flash a brief and "thankful" smile at his eavesdroppers, as Grand's half of the conversation droned on in his ear.


End file.
